


It's been a while since I dreamed this

by CoinToYourWitcher



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: All song fics all the time, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And fill your brain with a years worth of seratonin, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hope you like feeling cold and horny and lonely bc that's this story, Hurt/Comfort, I am an angst whore, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loss of Virginity, Lots of Frightened Rabbit vibes, Reylo - Freeform, Roommates, Scotland, Songs that will depress you, University of Edinburgh - Freeform, and make you fall in love, referenced noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:42:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26586811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoinToYourWitcher/pseuds/CoinToYourWitcher
Summary: Rey walks into her new dorm room for the first time to see her roommate making out with some guy. The girl leaves—because it’s not her room—and come to find out Rey was put on the guy’s floor by accident because she has a boy’s name.The RAs promise that usually someone drops out in the first month and that she should just wait for a spot to appear in one of the girl’s rooms.But in the meantime, Ben has nightmares and she keeps waking him up.The Spotify Playlist
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 493
Kudos: 502





	1. In the loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Can you hear the road from this place?  
>  Can you hear footsteps, voices?  
> In the loneliness  
> Oh the loneliness and the scream  
> To prove to everyone that I exist  
> In the loneliness  
> Oh the loneliness and the scream  
> To bring the blood to the front of my face again**
> 
> Loneliness and the Scream by Frightened Rabbit
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

[ ](https://ibb.co/2hRs5v0)

The hackney driver reached his hand back and Rey explored her pockets for enough money to cover the fare from the train station to the Pollock Halls of Residence. She could have walked, but her rucksack was heavy and full of books and she had all of her possessions crammed into a bulging, black bin bag.

“Thenk ye,” he said when she dropped a few pounds into his hand and scrambled out onto the slick, cobblestone pavement. 

Rey contemplated the Scottish accent as she tugged her bag out and shut the door. It was going to take getting used to. Scots sounded drunk. They might _be_ drunk. 

The University of Edinburgh was in the heart of the small, medieval city, but the student housing was a thirty minute walk, on the outskirts of Holyrood Park. The view of the city was fuzzy around the edges from a permanent mist that penetrated her clothes. It was even more drab than Westminster. Probably why their suicide rates were so high—3-4 people every day.

Rey walked towards the castle-like building that had folding tables set up outside. A team of undergrads were lined up to check in the new students. One blonde—who looked like Instagram royalty—took in Rey’s bag and her navy blue Edinburgh sweatshirt that had cost a small fortune and smiled.

“Awrite! Who’ve we here?” She said, sounding perky and not drunk with her accent like the driver. Her paper name tag identified her as Amber.

“Rey Palpatine,” Rey said clearly, watching as she dug through the P folder and found her welcome packet with a brass key taped to the inside.

“Ooh, you’re a lucky gurrl. You’ll be in Saint Leonard’s Hall,” she said, pointing to the building behind her. Most of the students were making their way to the modern buildings that surrounded it. 

Rey hoped the plumbing worked. Old buildings were romantic and everything, but the functionality usually left something to be desired.

She heaved her bag over her back and went inside, doors propped open, and climbed to the second floor up a dark staircase. Passing strange looks in the hall, she wondered that everyone looked so posh...only parents were donned in the school sweatshirts and hoodies.

_Fuck._ Her first day and she’d already messed up. Fleeing into the room marked ‘201’, she tossed her bin bag ahead of her, flipping on the lights and kicking her bag further into the room. She had one moment to realize how small the space was before the covers of her roommate’s bed moved and two figures sat up. 

“Oh, sorry,” Rey said, stupidly. Her roommate was down to her bra, a plain white number, the boy beside her _criminally attractive_ , with loose, dark hair, wiping his mouth and laughing.

The girl threw her shirt on and ran by her, out into the hall, leaving Rey dumbfounded.

_You forgot your boyfriend,_ Rey thought. The girl actually looked a lot like Amber, but she couldn’t have gotten up there that fast.

“What are you, taking people’s trash?” The boyfriend asked in an American accent, pulling a black, knit jumper over his bare chest.

Rey scoffed. “No, that’s my stuff.”

“Oh,” he nodded, still looking confused. “I think you have the wrong room.”

Rey’s heart sank and her blood pumped in her ears, but she looked at her folder and showed him. “Room 201, St. Leonards.”

“Are you trans or something?” He asked, running a hand through his hair, watching her toss her bag on the empty bed.

_Shit. No sheets or blankets._ She hadn’t packed those. And she had no money to buy anything until her first paycheck from the dining hall in two weeks.

“What?” Rey said, turning around, his question finally registering.

“This is a _guy’s floor_ ,” he said with a wide grin. “I’m Ben.” He offered his hand, barely leaving his sitting position on the bed to do so, the room so claustrophobic. 

Rey stared at his hand, not taking it. _Fuck._ They’d put her on the boy’s floor. It was probably because of her _god damned boy’s name_. She’d have to go back out in the cold to work this out. 

‘Ben’ frowned and withdrew his hand. “I don’t have leprosy,” he said, his tone as cold as the mist on the other side of the window.

“Well. I don’t know where your hands have been,” Rey said, grabbing her bag once again.

Twenty minutes later, Rey was back in the hall, staring at the door to 201 in disbelief. Amber and her _twin_ , Crystal, had just informed her that there _were no empty spots_ on the girl’s floors. That she’d just have to wait until a girl somewhere dropped out, which could be soon or a week or a _month_. And the Resident Advisor for the second floor, Hux, had said he could personally vouch for her new roommate, the Dean’s nephew and his friend from St. Augustine’s.

“ _Nice sweatshirt,_ you lost?” A boy mocked her, coming down the hall. Rey gripped the door handle and stepped inside 201.

“Not a word,” Rey snapped when Ben looked up from his desk, fiddling on a laptop.

“Uh, why are you back?” He asked, affronted, disappointed.

Rey banged open the closet to see if they had stored away any blankets for the students and a guitar case tipped out, hitting her legs. “Ow, what the fuck! This is my closet!”

Ben stretched, leaning his chair backwards, and grabbed the case’s handle. “I didn’t think I had a roommate, chill out.” 

He flung the case onto his bed and stood up. He was _tall as fuck_. Grabbing his black jacket off the back of his chair, he skirted around her and pulled it on at the door, looking just as fashionable as the rest of them with his look of dark academia. 

She hated them all. For looking like they belonged there. Here on their family’s dime, not eight different scholarships.

“I’ll get them to find you somewhere else,” he promised, before closing the door.

Rey watched from the drafty window as Ben argued with the undergrads at the table, motioning back to the building. Irritated. Thing 1 and 2 commiserated with him, but shook their blonde heads. Nothing they could do. 

Their redheaded RA, Hux, clapped a hand over Ben’s shoulder and they walked down the pavement, toward the pubs. 

A pressing need forced Rey to explore down to the first floor to the girl’s loo. She had shucked her school sweatshirt, but she still felt out of place. The girls were already befriending each other—thanks to their close proximity—their doors all open with music pouring into the hall. Rey gleaned enough from their conversations as she washed her hands that the Snoke twins were both RAs and had equally fit brothers on the rugby team.

She took her time, listening to everyone’s comradery and introductions, meandering back up to 201. Rey sat on her bed with her pillowcaseless pillow and cried. She was lonely and hungry and wanted to scream. She couldn’t afford to eat until her job started the next morning. There was always something to eat when she worked in the food industry. No one would notice a little missing cereal.

Rey fell asleep to the sounds of the passing cars on the cobblestone until Ben banged his way through the door, drunk, but not turning on the lights. Because it was dark, nighttime, and Rey jerked but didn’t move, pretending to sleep.

She listened as Ben undressed behind her, wondering _how undressed_ he dared get with his new female roommate. His guitar case clattered to the floor and he muttered, “sorry,” but Rey refused to turn around.

His bed springs creaked and the room fell suddenly quiet. Too quiet. The sound of the cars on the street gone at this hour. Heartbeat thumping in her chest, Rey squeezed her pillow, wishing the heater made sound, maybe it would in time as they got into fall and winter and cranked it higher. Ben’s breathing became slow and steady and she closed her eyes, trying to sleep even though she’d slept for half the day like a hermit in the dorm. 

It was cold. _Fuck Scotland._ If there was light, she’d probably be able to look in the mirror and see purple lips and blue hands where her blood was retreating to her chest, her whole body shaking to create warmth. She couldn’t get sick. She didn’t have money for cold medicine. Hours went by and she bundled into two jumpers and two pairs of socks.

Ben groaned and Rey listened in the quiet. He took a rasping breath and she realized he was dreaming. 

“No,” he said, loudly, sluggishly. She heard the distinct, shuddering, wet sounds of someone crying, because it had been her hours ago.

He was having a nightmare.

Ben sobbed and Rey sat up, a voyeur to his misery, her eyes adjusting in the dark. He continued like that and she stood, padding closer, reaching out, shaking his warm arm. 

“Hey, wake up,” she said, testing the volume of her voice in the room. 

Ben sat up, wiping his face on his arm, reminding her of earlier when he was wiping his kiss-rubbed mouth. “Oh, was I-,” he started, but Rey had already crawled back into her bed. 

A minute went by in silence, then Ben’s bed springs creaked and he was standing. Then his covers were around Rey, warm, from where he’d been in them. She wanted to throw them to the floor. She didn’t need his pity. But they were so warm. And she couldn’t get sick.

“Don’t tell anyone, please,” he said, climbing back under his sheet.

Rey turned to face him. “This doesn’t make us friends,” she said, feeling her shivers stilling.

She saw the ghost of a smirk in the dark. “We’ll see.”


	2. My enemy please stay close to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **My enemy  
>  Please stay close to me  
> I've no breath left  
> You cold breath thief  
> The last gasp from a burst lung  
> The fight fathers, the weak son  
> The last taste of salt in my mouth**
> 
> The Wrestle by Frightened Rabbit
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

“Wondered where you’d gone so early,” Ben said loudly, still two people away as she took breakfast orders at the Teviot Row House, the student union building and dining hall, another 16th century behemoth.

The line of sleepy students glanced quietly between them. They thought they’d had a one night stand or something. Slumming it with the help.

“Some of us have to work,” Rey said, blandly. “Sorry, all out of _silver spoons_ ,” she added, handing him a fork and an outstretched pile of eggs.

“Nah,” he said, waving his hand at the plate and selecting a single-serving soy milk from the ice tray. 

_Vegan?_

“I _have_ a job,” he said over his shoulder, heading towards the bank of cereal options. He sounded slightly put off by her rebuff. As if his peacemaking tactics should have worked with her by now. Blankets and greetings.

He sat at one of the tables next to the wood-paneled walls, facing her, watching her serve until the line dwindled, eating corn flakes and glancing occasionally at his phone. His feet were folded under his chair, kind of shy-looking. Shy feet.

It was almost 8am and she had a class in half an hour, so she went to punch out in the back, literally. A punch card machine that looked like it was from the 1940’s. Wriggling out of her white staff shirt, layered over a long-sleeve grey jumper, she stuffed it in her rucksack and found her campus map, from the depths of her welcome folder, setting off to find her first class. She’d have to rely on the map. She didn’t have a phone for GPS.

Ben caught up with her in Bristo Square. “Need any help? What building you looking for?” 

His determination was...flattering. Even if he had a girlfriend.

“School of Literatures, Languages, and Cultures,” she conceded. 

“Ah, a liberal arts person, like myself,” he said, pointing her toward another patch of green gardens and tapping on her map. “I’m here,” he said, looking at his watch and not following.

“The music buildings,” he informed her, as if she should have shown interest.

“Where’s your guitar?” Rey asked, _showing interest_. All he had was a knapsack draped over his chest.

Ben smiled, backing away. “I _don’t need_ classes for guitar,” he said, sounding cocky. “It’s going to be a very boring composition class.”

“Have fun,” Rey said as they parted, trying not to smile. Because despite herself, her rich arse male roommate was the closest thing to a friend she’d found so far in that dreary city.

\---------------------------------------

Rey’s watch alarm went off at 10pm and she silenced it quickly—before it woke Ben—already asleep when she had returned late from the library. She didn’t have a laptop, so she had to use the communal computers to research a good paper topic. Oscar Wilde eventually won the decision with his timeless wit.

There was a brand new blanket, sheets, and pillowcase on her bed. School colors, as if Ben had gotten them from the merch store, but the note on her empty desk said his uncle had gifted them and they were lame, so hers if she wanted them.

_Not really charity if he didn’t want them, right?_

She reached into the front flap of her rucksack and gingerly uncrinkled one small, red pill from the packet. With a swig of water, she swallowed it down, grabbed her shower caddy and slipped back out the door to head to the first floor showers.

—————————————-

“Ben. Wake up, Ben,” Rey said, holding her hair back and trying not to drip on him. He’d been in the full throes of another nightmare when she returned. Fists clenched, face wet.

When his eyes finally opened, she walked back to the door and closed it, casting them into darkness.

“Thanks,” Ben said, wiping a hand down his face as if to reset his features.

Rey pretended it was no big deal, squeezing her hair with her towel until it was dry enough for bed. She cleared her throat, looking for a change of subject. “Thanks for the er...bed stuff. I forgot to pack all that, thought they’d provide it.”

“Oh, no problem. My mom sent them to me and I didn’t want them, so.”

Rey specifically remembered his note said his _uncle_ had given them, but she didn’t correct him. Because that meant he’d probably bought them himself.

“Ah,” Rey sighed, after sitting down and pulling the comforter up to her neck. “Soft.”

“I have nightmares a lot,” Ben blurted. “I can get you some headphones or...earplugs or something.”

Shaking her head, Rey slid until she was completely horizontal. “I like waking you up. To take someone from being completely sad back to reality is kind of a good feeling,” she said honestly.

Ben laid back down. “Maybe reality was the problem to begin with.”

Rey scoffed. Privileged Tory boy with his phone and computer and closet full of expensive New Bond Street clothes.

Speaking of which, Ben’s phone vibrated and he sat back up, reading a text message. Rather than text back, he called the person, throwing his covers off and walking towards the hall.

“Hey, talk to me,” he said gently, a bedroom tone, and closed the door quietly behind him.

He didn’t return for an hour and Rey feigned sleep as he continued messaging— _Crystal probably_ —until she slept.

—————————————

Ben’s nightmares became almost routine and by Friday she didn’t hesitate to pull back her covers, take three steps in the dark, and give his arm a firm shake. One day he’d tell her what was bothering him, because she couldn’t tell from the snippets of mutterings she caught. One time he said “fuck” and that was the first time she’d heard him curse.

“Wake up, it’s me,” Rey said, finding him looking feverish and sobbing during a nap. It was only 5pm.

“Hey, sorry,” he said, choking on the words. “Fell asleep. Wanted to go out tonight.” 

Rey wished she could go down to the pubs like everyone else, spend money without checking her bank account first. Eat dinner at a table. Instead of sneaking food into her rucksack from the dining hall like a thief. It was just for two weeks. Until she got paid. 

“Do you wanna come?” Ben asked, another peace offering, even though they got along now. Respectfully, without gender resentment.

Rey saw the way girls dressed to go out. One outfit looked like it cost hundreds. Buying £4 pints.

“No thanks,” Rey said, trying to think of some excuse. Homework or tiredness.

“Come out, we can pregame if you don’t want to spend a whole lot,” he said, guessing at her apprehension.

“Pregame?”

\----------------------------------------------

“Okay. Okay, okay,” Rey said, holding up the bottle of Tesco vodka and silencing Ben and Hux with a hand in the air. They were sitting on the floor between the two beds, cross-legged and tipsy, playing a drinking game of Rey’s invention.

“The Importance of Being Earnest,” Rey said clearly, waiting. 

Ben and Hux sat silently, thinking. Ben was first, “The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what _fiction_ means.”

“Fuck,” Hux muttered, reaching his hand out for the bottle to take a loser’s drink.

“I saw the movie,” Ben explained.

“Still makes you gay,” Hux deadpanned, his eyes watering from the burn.

Ben took the bottle, his turn to deal out a challenge. “Hmm. Same author. Picture of Dorian Gray.”

Rey wracked her foggy brain for a quote. Drinking with an American and a Scot was dangerous. They both loved their binge culture.

Rey beat Hux, “You- you will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.”

“I hate you both,” Hux said, taking the bottle from Ben’s hand and downing a swallow with squinty reproach.

“We should go, it’s almost ten,” Ben said, as if they had a schedule to keep.

“Gotta go change,” Hux said, standing. 

“Haste ye back,” Ben said, mimicking his accent.

“Haud yer wheest, Solo,” Hux slurred, making his way out the door to his room at the end of the hall.

“I can wait outside, if you want to change,” Ben offered. 

Rey looked down at her jeans and black hoodie. “I’ll just wear this.”

Ben smirked, looking at his watch. _Her_ watch alarm went off.

“You’ll have to do better than that if you ever want to put those pills to good use,” he teased. Apparently he knew she was on the pill. She wondered if he also suspected she was a virgin.

“Stand up,” Ben ordered her, as if appraising her. But he grabbed a pair of scissors from his pencil cup.

“Do I have a string?” Rey asked, looking down to see if she was unraveling.

Ben put his hands around her waist and her breath caught as he spun her around, her back to him. 

“What are you doing?!” She cried when she heard him cutting a line up the back of her hoodie. Afraid to move with the cold scissors grazing her spine, she let him spin her slowly, slicing away the bottom half of her hoodie, making a crop top.

When he was done, he ran a hand over her skin, lazily, from her navel to her hip bone, brazenly, drunkenly. “There,” he said, dipping his head close to her ear, then backing away to look at her. Rey’s whole body was in flames. She didn’t know what she was expecting. Maybe a hand to slide past her waistline or a hot kiss on her neck. But he was just...wing manning. Making her sexy.

Rey looked down, because she didn’t have a mirror. Hux whistled from the door. “Hot.”

Grinning, Rey followed Ben and Hux down the dark stairwell, where half a dozen girls were waiting. 

“I didn’t know other people were coming,” Rey balked, seeing Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum in matching plaid mini skirts and low tops.

“Stay close to me, then,” Ben said, pulling on her hoodie string, his knuckles pressing on her breast whether he meant to or not. 

_On. Fire._

But she could already see the girls whispering, their eyes on the few inches of bare skin around her middle. “They’re talking about me,” Rey confided as they walked into the cold night.

“There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about,” Ben said with a guiding hand on the small of her back. 

  
And if _anyone_ should be quoting Dorian Gray, it was Ben Solo.


	3. Fucking someone you don't know to keep warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **If we have a hormone race  
>  I'm bound to finish first  
> Can you see in the dark?  
> Can you see the look on your face?  
> The flashing white light's been turned off  
> You don't know who's in your bed  
> It takes more than fucking someone you don't know  
> To keep warm**
> 
> Keep Yourself Warm by Frightened Rabbit
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

“You’re a girl, you don’t have to pay for drinks,” Ben assured her. “Pick a guy in the room and I’ll have him eating out of the palm of your hand.”

Everyone was leaning on The Bow Bar’s touch-worn wood, waiting their turn to get the bartender’s attention. Except for Rey, sobering slowly after the chilly walk. 

_Pick a guy._ She wanted to pick Ben. She couldn’t tell if he was playing coy or genuinely not interested in her. Rey’s eyes swept the room, landing on a group of guys by the door. She took a moment to examine their smiles and hair and clothes. All way out of her league. 

“The dark haired one,” she said, calmly. “By the door.” There was something exciting about admitting one’s sexual type. And he was the closest to Ben’s looks in the whole bar. 

Ben chewed his lip, smile gone, before looking over her shoulder. He laughed through his nose, “We don’t have to do this.” He sounded sad, like when he first woke up from a nightmare. Didn’t he _want_ her to pick someone? Wasn’t he playing wing man?

“It was your game, not mine,” Rey reminded him. _Pick a guy._

Hux handed Ben a pint and some mixed drink slid in front of Rey. “Firss round’s on me,” he declared, clinking their glasses and dipping his nose into the foam of a Guinness.

“Cheers,” Rey smiled. It was just orange juice and vodka with a little orange slice on the edge, but it felt posh. Ben watched her take a sip.

Rey leaned on the sticky bar, trying to focus on the old timey decorations, booths, light fixtures, memorizing the moment of being in Scotland with a heart beating fast.

“Hey,” Ben said suddenly, his hand touching her bare hip as he took the tiniest step forward and Rey’s ears started ringing and her eyes stopped blinking. But Double Trouble interrupted him, pulling Rey to join the girls, claiming the boys ‘got enough of her’.

Rey could have clawed their eyes out.

“Okay, spill,” Amber or Crystal said, conspiratorially. The five other girls leaned in. Apparently Ben’s attentions had skyrocketed Rey to popularity.

“Gurrl. Please. Does he sleep naked?”

“Have you seen it?”

“Is it thick as a Coke can? I mean, _look_ at his hands.”

“Does he work out in the room with you?”

“Have you shagged?”

Rey glanced at the twins, confused. Because one of them, whichever was Crystal, had surely found a few of these answers out herself. Rey looked away, at her shoes. Perhaps Crystal wasn’t his girlfriend and she was keeping their tryst to herself. Maybe it was a one time thing, sudden, and while she should have been doing her RA duties.

Rey held her hand up to stop the onslaught. “We’re just _roommates_ ,” she said, trying to meet six pairs of eyes at once.

They objected, reminding her that he put his hand on her back.

“Maybe it’s a friendly American thing,” Rey invented.

“I can’t tell if he’s a total player or a total catch.”

“Maybe both?” Rey muttered.

“Is Army after you? What’s the deal? He got you a drink,” another girl said.

“No?” Rey said. _Who was Army? Hux?_ Her head was spinning, but she drank more anyway.

“Leave her be, ladies, she can hardly draw breath,” a short Asian girl chastised, waving a hand to draw a larger bubble of personal space around Rey. “They’re just excited Rey. What a story. A gurrl stuck on the guy’s floor. Nevar before have I wished I had a lad’s name instead of _Rose_.”

Rey liked her accent, Scottish, but with such emphasis on every word.

“You’re so slim, Rey, what’s your secret? Bulimia?” One redheaded girl asked, seriously.

“Poverty,” Rey said coldly, finishing her drink.

The group of guy’s from the door converged on them, picking out the girls who were lowest on liquor and offering to resupply them. Rey felt herself sliding into the background, her moment of fame over and at some point Mary Kate and Ashley had descended on Ben and Hux. _Fuck_ their _skirts were short._

“What are you having?” Dark Haired Door Guy said in an American accent, approaching her of his own volition. Rey blushed, wondering if Ben saw. 

“Erm. I think it’s just orange juice and vodka,” Rey said, watching as he ordered her another and a pint of bitter for himself. His breath smelled like beer and she liked that for some reason, letting him block out Ben’s view of her, hoping he would come to triumphantly claim her from the handsome stranger in his dusky clothes and perfectly quaffed hair.

But they were playing a new game. Maybe. One where they each pretended to be engaged in a conversation while casting a stern gaze across the bar. Rey felt like any moment they would drop their pretense and let the tension snap, meet in the middle of the room and-

Poe—that was his name—kissed her. It wasn’t out of the blue, they’d been talking, kind of. But she wasn’t expecting it. Or to like it. Feeling that fire from earlier lash out, her hand setting her drink down and traveling up to his shirt. His tongue entered her mouth and her head fell back, but his hand was there, waiting. 

This guy was smooth. Her insides turned to liquid. Her insides _were_ liquid. “I need the loo,” Rey said into his mouth and he laughed.

“Take your time, I’ll get you another,” Poe said. 

Rey hadn’t realized she had already had two drinks since entering the pub. Crossing the room, she felt her blood circulating, waking her up from the haze of alcohol that stilled time and dulled sounds, made her dreamy and hungry for touch, almost unbearable as she passed by Ben, his eyes telling her he saw. He saw. He saw. And he didn’t like it.

She peed fast, then ran to the mirror to flatten her mist-frizzied hair and wipe a finger under each eye where her mascara was rubbing off. 

_How was she going to fix this?_ Poe was waiting with a drink and Ben was being cornered by the Dixie Chicks. Maybe _she_ could do the claiming. He was going to say something. Before they pulled her away. 

Pushing back through the door into the noise of the pub, she looked around and noticed a suspicious lack of blonde hair and Hux was talking to Rose and Ben was nowhere in sight.

Rey should have said goodbye to Poe, instead of sneaking out the door, but he was standing there looking all debonair with a fresh drink on the bar, waiting for her. And she knew if she gave him half a chance she’d be losing her virginity tonight. To the wrong guy.

But Ben had left with the Snoke sisters and judging by their questions earlier, he was single. She’d kept him at arm’s length for no reason.

The streets were dark and quiet. It was almost 1am and she ran, trying to remember the way, taking several wrong turns, then recognizing the street that led back to the Residence Halls. She ran like The Ripper was on her heels.

When she got to 201, her lungs burned with cold-induced asthma and her throat tasted raw. She reached for the doorknob but heard them. All three of them. In there. 

Rey’s face screwed up when she heard the first whiney moan, then it was overlapped by her twin. A chorus of fucking pleasure. 

Tears ran down Rey’s cheeks and into her mouth. Salty and lukewarm. But she didn’t make a sound and she couldn’t move her feet. She just listened, blinking, each blink pushing out a tear into her open mouth.

She sat down in the dim hallway, across from the door, listening. Masochistically. 

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Ben!”

Rey’s teeth clenched.

“Yes! Chrrist. Uuuuh.” “Ah. Ah. Ah.”

Rey tried not to picture it. How did someone even make two girls scream at the same time?

Rey pulled the bottom of her hoodie down as far as it would go. Thick to think she could have Ben Solo. He was probably using her to get their attention. It had worked so well. They were _eating out of the palm of his hand_. Time passed and her tears dried and the screams grew forced and less frequent, stalling out.

“Fuck you!” One of the girl’s shouted and Rey stood, running back to the dark stairwell as the girls filed out, fighting with each other and barely noticing as Rey pretended to scale the stairs.

Ben stood in the doorway, his eyes wide when he saw Rey. “Your lips are purple,” he said, reaching a hand out, but she dodged it, ducking into the room. “I thought you were going home with that guy.”

She grabbed her pillow and blanket and passed back by him. 

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll sleep in the common room,” Rey said. “Smells like sex in here.” Her derision laid bare her feelings and she didn’t like that, but at least he knew they were back to square one. Worse. 

“Like you would know,” Ben said, holding onto the blanket so she couldn’t go anywhere.

His jab cut deeper than he knew and Rey let go of the blanket. She’d rather be cold all night than in his presence a moment longer.

“They were faking it,” Rey said at the end of the hall. They weren’t. But she’d let him wonder. At how much she heard. And if they were.

\-------------------------------------

When Rey woke up, she walked to the communal kitchen and was sick, right there in the sink. Opening the refrigerator, she stuck her head into the cold, appreciating it now, sinking to her knees and hanging her head like that. 

She knew there was some time missing from her memory. A black out drunk kind of night. From the pub, she barely remembered the conversation she had with Poe the good kisser. Maybe some more time slipped by when she sat in the hall. Everything else she remembered. 

Laying back down on the couch, she pulled the blanket over her head, wondering when Ben came down to cover her and if he’d had a nightmare and how long it lasted without her there.


	4. Midnight, woke up hurting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Midnight  
>  Woke up hurting  
> With tarmac to my side  
> I woke up with dirty knees  
> Not for the first time  
> I woke up hurting  
> Though I can't quite say why  
> I woke up hurting  
> Woke up hurting**
> 
> Woke Up Hurting by Frightened Rabbit
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

Rey didn’t go back to the room until she was sure Ben would be asleep. She needed to get some real rest, and focus on coursework. As soon as she entered the room, she knew something was wrong. It smelled like blood. And sure enough, there was bloody kitchen paper in the bin. Rey crept close to Ben’s bed, peering over him, but couldn’t see his face in the dark.

She laid her blanket and pillow down softly on her bed, toeing her trainers off and climbing in slowly as not to creak, only to get back up a moment later to wake Ben from his latest night terror.

"No! I'm sorry!"

She rubbed his shoulder and he grabbed her hand in fear—real fear—his knuckles dark and bloody. But he let go when she gasped.

“Rey?” He said, sitting up and turning on his table lamp.

“Oh my god,” Rey said, looking at Ben’s busted lip and a wide scratch from his hairline over an eyebrow, held together with butterfly bandages.

“What _happened_?” She’d seen him last night and he was all fresh-faced and recently fucked.

Ben licked his lip gingerly. “The rugby team happened. I don’t know what the Snoke twins are telling people…”

Rey sat at the foot of his bed. “What _did_ happen? They seemed pretty pissed when they left.” She didn’t want details. Just the gist.

“I don’t know, Rey,” Ben said, holding his side. “Never have a threesome. Someone always gets left out. I think their brothers are on the team. Think they said I was being a pig.”

That might account for it. Jealousy and embarrassment and lying about him. She pictured him favoring one sister and a fight ensuing, followed by regret at agreeing to a threesome in the first place. It _was_ kind of incestuous.

“You should get some sleep, it’s late and you work early,” Ben said. 

She hadn’t realized he’d memorized her schedule. Rey stood, remembering she hated him. “You owe me a new shirt, by the way,” Rey said, “or I’ll give you one better than the RFC.”

Ben laughed but the smile stretched his lip and he winced, holding his lip still by force. “I’ll take you on a shopping spree if you forget yesterday ever happened.”

Rey waited until he turned off the light. “I’ll forget it happened if you tell me _how_ it happened.”

There was a long pause while Ben formulated whatever excuse he was going to feed her. “It happened...I think because you picked a guy and it wasn’t me. And it was supposed to be me. But I get it. It’s better if we’re just roommates or friends. Because girls always _always_ hate me. Later, when they get to know me.”

Rey forgot to breathe. She _was_ supposed to pick him. He _was_ flirting.

“I wanted to pick you,” Rey said quietly, so quiet she wasn’t sure he heard her, before she turned to face the wall and fell dutifully asleep.

————————————

Ben skipped class a lot that week. Probably afraid people would see his face. He spent most of his time semi-recumbent on his bed, playing on a black electric guitar—silently, with a Bluetooth amp plugged into the bottom, the only sound in his headphones.

When he wasn’t playing, he was on his phone, texting mysteriously, occasionally leaving the room to make a phone call, but never leaving the hall or men’s bathroom.

Rey wondered if one of his parents was ill. Or maybe he had siblings she didn’t know about. The lack of information was infuriating.

Ben came back inside from a phone call and picked up his guitar, strumming away absentmindedly while Rey read a series of Oscar Wilde’s funnier essays. But she watched Ben out of the corner of her eye.

He stared at the ceiling or down to his fingers, but he must have noticed she wasn't reading. “What, is the noise bothering you?” He said, considerately.

She was so used to the scratchy sound on the strings, she didn’t even notice it anymore. Shaking her head, she closed her book. “Can I?” 

“You want to listen? Sure,” he said, scooting to the head of his bed, handing her his headphones.

They were sweaty, well-used, and torn. She adjusted the size to fit her head and sat down as Ben started strumming, slowly. Shocking how loud it was, when she hadn’t heard a sound from her side all week.

Rey’s eyebrows lifted as he began playing in earnest, testing the volume by her eyes, building now. A melody, a bridge, tension, and then fulfillment. She closed her eyes and let him watch her face. She wondered if she was breathing too loud.

There was something about him sitting in silence while she listened to his music, vibrating down to her bones. He was right, he _didn’t_ need guitar lessons. How many hours had his calloused fingers born down on those strings? How could he reach so far? The span of his hand was twice what hers would be. 

_I mean, look at his hands,_ one of the girls had said. Rey was starting to feel achey in all the right places, a thrum that spread from between her legs to her breasts, heating her neck. She remembered his hand, right after he cut her hoodie. She hoped she hadn’t missed her chance by not choosing him. Hoped she hadn’t insulted him too much. Because she needed him. Soon. If not now.

The music stopped and Rey opened her eyes, watching him flex his left hand as if it hurt, the knuckles still bruised and scabbed from where he’d fought back. But he was looking at his phone on the dresser.

Rey took off the headphones. “Another _text_?” She hinted curiously.

He looked at her, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple and pushing his hair to the side. He’d really played hard for her. The room even felt warmer.

“Hux wants to take Rose to the ‘cinema’” he said, using air quotes. “Want to go? I’ll get your ticket and a shirt.”

Ben _would_ want the dark of a cinema, where no one would see his face.

“I’ll pay you back for the ticket. I get paid tomorrow,” Rey said, standing up and slipping her shoes on. It wasn't a date if she paid.

\---------------------------------------

Ben took her to the shops first to pick out a replacement top, since the movie wasn’t for a couple of hours. They passed several promising ones, but she must have lingered too long at the display for a store called Whistles because Ben pulled her inside.

It was one of those pricey boutique places, with fewer clothes and better quality, with velvety, little ottomans positioned around the store for the clientele to take their time, socialize, relax. The clothes reminded her of what the other uni girls wore. Intelligent. Sexy.

Rey filled her arms with a variety of styles and retreated to the changing room while Ben texted on his phone, trying to arrange his hair to cover the scratch on his forehead. 

There was a thick, maroon curtain blocking the viewing room full of mirrors from the shoppers, and another curtain to her changing room stall, but Rey soon realized that if she walked out into the viewing room, Ben would see her for a split second. 

He wasn’t looking at his phone anymore as she trekked back and forth, changing blouses, fully-clothed, but something still illicit about it. The glimpse behind the curtain. She paused, unzipping the back of a red shirt as if she wasn’t aware of the gap, then stepped once again into the stall.

When she came back out to the viewing room, Ben was closer and she worried he was going to try to come in, so she picked a jumper she liked—a fuzzy, plum one—and slipped the viewing room curtain to the side. But, as she moved to hang up her discards on the 'no' rack, Ben plucked the hanger with the red shirt off.

“Let’s get this one too,” he smirked, as if he knew _exactly_ what she'd been doing.

Rey pulled on the plum jumper as they made their way to the cinema, smiling when she spotted Rose and Hux waiting by the framed outdoor film posters. She hadn’t been to a movie in ages. 

“What’ve you got?” Rose asked, looking at the shirt. “Love-lay, you’ll be a right sight. What ‘appened last weekend, did ya ken what Ben was up ta?”

Rey did _not_ want to tell anyone that Ben started the night off by her side and ended it with the twins, but she somehow suspected Rose knew even more than she did, coming from the girls floor. “What. What do you know?”

“Naethin! Oh, I dinna ken how to lie,” she said, watching the boys coming back. “I’ll tell ye one day, but just ken that those twinsters are filth-ay _liars._ ”

Rey smiled, taking her ticket from Ben’s outstretched hand and following the group inside, feeling like the weight from last week was vaguely lifted, even if she had no idea why, just a sense that she’d get a glimpse behind the curtain one day. Figure out Ben Solo. Maybe be the only one. Wear the headphones and listen while the rest of the world heard silence.


	5. Did you blush then, when our hips touched?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Do the twist in the twisting outfit  
>  The loose tie with, the loose limp wrists  
> Lift your dress enough to show me those shins  
> Let your hair stick to your forehead  
> Did you blush then, when our hips touched?  
> I can't tell, we are already red**
> 
> The Twist by Frightened Rabbit
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

“What do you mean? The work study said every two weeks,” Rey said, locking the dining hall doors. 

Her supervisor, Janna, was turning off all of the lights. It was only 7pm, but it was already dark outside and without the lights, Rey had to fumble in the dark to punch out.

“Oops, sorry,” Janna laughed, turning one light back on. “Aye, pay is bimonth-lay, but not ‘tel after the firs month. Somethen to do with accounting. Look at that,” she said, peering out the doors at the sky. “Weathar says this week we’re getting drookit.”

Janna waved, leaving Rey to her panic attack. 

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No money. No money for two more weeks._

Rey opened her rucksack and made space between her books. She filled a resealable bag with three different cereals, throwing in a muffin wrapped in cling film and an apple for breakfast the next day. It started raining and Rey groaned. She hadn’t brought her umbrella and it was a thirty minute walk.

There was a tap on the door and she quickly zipped her bag, turning to see Ben’s silhouette through the fogged glass windows. 

Rey threaded her arms into her bag and pushed on the heavy door, smiling. He was smart, dry under a large, black umbrella, with hers dangling from his wrist like he’d brought it for her.

“I’m having a bad day, thank you,” Rey said, taking the umbrella and expanding it before stepping into the downpour. Handy, that he memorized her schedule.

“I’m having a bad day too,” Ben said, cryptically, as they began walking back to the Residence Halls. She’d never seen him wear a benny hat before. But it was cute.

The rain was hitting the cobblestones so hard it was bouncing, wetting her shoes and pantyhose.

“Are you wearing a skirt? And the red shirt?” Ben asked, seeing it peek through the top of her coat. He said ‘red shirt’ as if it were infamous.

“Yes, I only dress up when I need to do laundry. And it might be a couple more weeks because I just found out I’m not getting paid yet,” she said. She knew she’d promised to pay him back for the movie ticket.

They stopped at a road to let cars go by and Ben turned to face her. His hand came up and unbuttoned the top button of her coat. Rey looked down, but didn’t stop him. He did it again, another button, fanning open her coat. “Are you tired? Or could you go out?”

\----------------------------------------------------

  
  


Ben took her straight to a rock and whiskey bar called The Bannerman’s, explaining that there was a concert that night. She sat in a chair, decompressing into the cushion as Ben got her a drink. The chalk art on the wall read ‘You can’t get a hangover if you never stop drinking’ and Rey filed it away as the most Scottish thing she’d heard thus far.

“I’m assuming you like screwdrivers,” Ben said, squeezing through a line of folks waiting for the bar, balancing their drinks. Screwdriver. She didn’t know that’s what it was called. Maybe that’s what Americans called it.

“What’s your bad day about then?” Rey asked, leaning close as Ben sat across from her, setting their drinks down on the small, circular table at their knees. 

More and more people were coming out of the woodwork to drink ahead of the concert, their wet coats grazing their heads, making them lean in closer, away from the throng.

Ben pulled his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, slower than usual, because his scratch was still painful. “It’s _my job_. And class. Something went wrong with work and my professors told my uncle I’ve been skipping.”

Rey still didn’t know where he worked. She never saw him go anywhere that wasn’t St. Leonards, class, or a pub. Maybe his work was remote. And that would explain all the texting and phone calls. She had so many questions, but she wasn’t sure where to start. She pitched him a soft one.

“What part of America are you from?”

“Chicago,” he said, pronouncing it Shi- _kaa_ -go, as if making fun of the locals. “My dad lived there and my mom lives here, went back and forth, half a year in each. Dual citizenship. The weirdest part was the drinking age in America versus Scotland. Twenty-one, can you believe that?”

Rey noted that he said ‘lived’ for his dad and ‘lives’ for his mum.

“Your accent’s London, right?” Ben guessed.

“Right,” Rey said, nodding into her drink.

“Your parents still live there?” He asked, copying her by taking a drink. His lip looked better, just a thin, red line down the right side of his bottom lip. It wasn’t swollen, they were always that full.

There was something exciting about being the only two sitting, surrounded by a wall of people. Music was playing, not the band, just a radio, and everyone was talking over everyone and the room was starting to feel humid from all the moisture, bodies, and thick coats.

“No, just me. I aged out of the Care System,” Rey said. “Foster care,” she clarified, because he looked confused.

“ _Really_? I’m sorry,” he said, licking his hurt lip and tucking his shy feet. 

Rey shrugged it off, filling her empty belly with her drink, one subtle sip at a time.

They finished three drinks and shed their coats by the time the band came onto the stage at the far end of the pub. Three guitarists, one bass guitar, and the drummer. Half of them looked like bearded teddy bears in button ups.

“We just got back from four days en Los Angeles. So. That was enough,” the Scottish lead singer said simply, eliciting a smattering of laughter from the crowd.

Ben pulled Rey up to stand and they weaved closer as they began playing. The lead singer’s voice was kind of...pleading. And lonely. And it felt like her soul, pining for Ben, inches away and perfectly imperfect. Dorian Gray, handsome and smart and full of sins and dark secrets she could never get to.

Standing behind her, his chest pressed against her back, their coats in his arms, Ben ran a finger over her neck, pulling her hair back, giving her an eruption of goosebumps down her left leg. God. If there was a god, Ben was hers. He’d be hers. He’d kiss her neck and wrap an arm around her waist and take her. Anywhere he wanted to do that, she was ready. To put those pills to good use.

There is light but there’s a tunnel to crawl through

There is love but its misery loves you

There’s still hope so I think we’ll be fine

In these disastrous times, these disastrous times

Ben put a hand on either of her shoulders and twisted her back and forth, playfully. She realized she hadn’t been moving. Frozen, unbreathing, as everyone around them nodded and tapped their feet and even danced.

She swallowed, feeling the jostle of strangers against her and the firm wall of Ben behind her, his hips flush with her arse. _Was_ she having a bad day? Or was it the best day she’d ever had? Best night. 

“Somethen about this venue makes me want to, I dunno, just unhook the mic and walk amongst you all. I could...you know, get a bit flirty,” the lead singer joked, strumming them into the next song, faster, naughtier. Scottish and sexy as hell.

Rey tilted her head down and closed her eyes, memorizing the moment again. Hoping no one came to ruin this one. But they were alone, pressed tight by the crowd and she felt a breath on her neck, Ben’s head tilted down too. Were they friends or could she just turn around and-

But Ben wrapped an arm around her collarbone and kissed the back of her head, rubbing the sleeve of her red shirt between his fingers on her left arm. She closed her eyes again and let him hold her, so close they were one unit.

“This is what I want to do,” Ben whispered in her ear. She thought he was about to say something about them, doing something later, but then she realized he meant the band. He wanted to be in a band.

“You should,” she said, turning her head so he could hear her.

“Do you want another drink?” He asked.

She was still hungry, so she said ‘yes’, watching him take a few steps away from their spot to the bar. If she was lucky, he was trying to seduce her. Tightening the grip on her rucksack’s arm strap, sagging down to the floor between her feet, she prayed Ben felt the plea of the music. To find someone you like and make them yours.

  
She thought of the phrase on the pub’s chalkboard. _You can’t get a hangover if you never stop drinking._ And you can’t have nightmares if you never go to sleep.


	6. The perfect place may never exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The perfect place may never exist, may never exist  
>  The perfect time might be years and years away  
> The city is overweight and it's pressing on the pair of us  
> We scowl and sweat beneath the overbearing crush  
> But I still want to be here, want to be here**
> 
> Still Want To Be Here by Frightened Rabbit
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

“I’ll meet you back at 201,” Ben said quickly, squeezing her hand and folding her coat over her arm.

“What? Why?!” Rey asked his back. 

But then two figures pushed past her, following Ben, laughing as if he was their prey. Their hair was buzzed short and their thighs were thick as tree trunks. Rugby jocks. The twin's muscle. She chased them through the crowd, out the door into the cold drizzle where two more had been waiting for Ben. He was doubled over and coughing while they laughed at their well-laid trap, punching him in the stomach again the moment he stood up straight.

One raised an empty pint glass, "Should I do it again?" He was going to smash Ben over the head!

Rey screamed “STOP!” followed by a panicked shriek, but they didn’t cease laughing until a whistle pierced the street. A lone policeman had heard her and the boys fled with athletic speed as the officer broke into a run, right by Ben, who reached out and took Rey’s hand, running with her in the opposite direction toward the Residence Halls.

“Jesus Christ,” Ben said, “what the fuck did the Snoke sisters _tell them_?” 

“Look!” Rey said, grabbing the whistle the policeman had accidentally dropped.

“Now’s not the time,” Ben laughed, heaving her up and back into a sprint, all the way back to the safety of St. Leonard’s.

Ben hissed when he sat down, “Bastard punched the same god damn rib.”

“I’m going to go tell the twins to call off their dogs. They almost _killed_ you,” Rey fumed. “That wasn’t bullying, that was almost _murder_ , Ben.”

“Yeah, note to self, don’t fuck with the RFC’s sisters," Ben cringed, pulling his shirt off over his head with difficulty.

Rey was pacing, making sure the door was locked, counting the old bruises across Ben’s broad chest when he wasn’t looking. They were shaped like knuckles and the toes of shoes and she wanted to throw something through the window and she almost did, still holding the cop’s whistle in her hand, but for some reason she wanted to keep it close, because it had saved him.

“You have to tell me the truth. What pissed them off so bad?” Rey said. “It sounded like you three were having a grand old time for like two hours in here, then someone shouted ‘Fuck you!’ and they called in hit men?” 

“You were outside that door for two hours?! Jesus, Rey,” Ben muttered.

Rey covered her face, “I just sat down! I don’t know! I was drunk.”

Ben rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “For the love of god, Rey, please don’t tell anyone...that I have delayed ejaculation issues.”

Rey almost laughed. Ben was _embarrassed_? That he was able to fuck two girls at once for _hours_? “I’m sure if anything gets out, it’ll be the twins that do it.”

“Yeah, like they want to brag about how they tried to get me off and couldn’t.”

Rey was starting to understand why the twins had been so vindictive. Delayed ejaculation. It was probably psychological. “Do you have...like...a hard time getting hard?”

Ben’s eyebrows knitted, “No, I’m 18. I spend more time hard than...can we just...I need some aspirin,” he said, laying back.

“I’ll get some,” Rey said, eager to be helpful.

“Do _not_ open that door,” Ben ordered her, picking up his phone. “I’ll text Hux to bring some.”

Rey wished she had a phone. She could message Rose and find out what the twins had told the rugby club.

“Fuck,” Ben said, reading a text message. “Um, crisis at work,” he said, sitting up and grabbing his headphones, standing and putting them on Rey’s head. “I have to make a call and I can’t leave the room,” he explained, before letting the ear covers down.

He made the call and Rey could still hear him with the headphones on, even though he was whispering.

“Hey, how do you feel, CiCi? How many did you take? No, you should be okay. I’m glad you changed your mind, but you should still try to throw up. If you can’t throw up, just call an ambulance. I’ll stay on the line.” And he sat in tense silence, glancing at Rey as she paced and sat at her desk, confused.

There was a knock at the door, cheerful. Hux. Rey let him in with his bottle of aspirin and locked the door.

“Chrrist,” he said, when he saw Ben’s chest. “D’ya want aspirin or horse tranquilizers? And why is she in headphones?”

Ben ignored him, wrapping up his call with someone who had—apparently—just made themselves successfully vomit.

“Thought you weren’t doing that anymore? Thought you quit,” Hux said, as Rey took off the headphones.

Ben dry swallowed four aspirin and shook his head. “I did, these are the people I gave my cell number.”

“What people?” Rey asked, but he clammed up after that, sending Hux down to watch the door to St. Leonard’s and Rey to Hux’s single for the night. For safety. “This is ridiculous!” Rey said to herself, kicking Hux’s personal mini fridge. She wondered if she would be half so mad if she hadn’t had a head full of designs for Ben Solo that night. The cop’s whistle was leaving an imprint on her palm from squeezing it and she didn’t sleep a wink.

————————————

The rest of the week, Ben skipped class and didn’t even touch his guitar, too busy listening for the pitter patter of cleats in the hall. He only left the room for the shower and the loo, watching movies on his laptop and working out on the floor. Actually, the girl’s were right about that fantasy, it was nice to come back from class to Ben doing push-ups.

“You’re going to flunk out. Let’s tell the school,” Rey said on Saturday morning. Friday was the first night Ben had let Rey back to sleep in the room, as if he had been expecting a late night ambush for three days.

“Honestly, Rey, I don’t give a fuck about this school. I want to get out of here. Half this building thinks I did something wrong—sexually—to the twins. And I would never do that!” He added.

Rey took a deep breath. She’d never seen him so stressed. “Then let’s go, let’s get out. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Where?” Ben said, gently. He looked surprised she was still standing there, still his friend, and trusting his word.

————————————-

“Just because it’s sunny now, doesn’t mean the weatherman was wrong. It’s Scotland. In five minutes, it’ll probably be sleeting,” Ben said from behind her as they hiked the trail up to Arthur’s Seat, a cliff-like view of the city that abutted St. Leonard’s.

“But look,” Rey said, holding her arms out and spinning. “No rugby players!”

Ben laughed.

About halfway up, they slowed their pace, the trail a single-file dirt line, deep in shin-high weeds and heather. The wind blew so hard, Rey spoke loudly over her shoulder, “What do you do for work, Ben? I could kind of hear through the headphones.”

“It’s not a secret. It’s just...personal for people,” he started. 

Rey could have just _shown interest_ and he would have told her.

“I used to work for a suicide hotline. For Edinburgh. Just someone for people to talk to when they were really struggling,” he said. 

And it all seemed to click into place. His 'bedroom' phone voice. _Talk to me._

“I even gave people my personal number. But, I had to stop. The nightmares. I keep picturing finding people dead. My dad, my mom, Hux, you.”

Rey swallowed, and took a guess. “How did your dad die, Ben?”

They were almost to the top. 

“Yeah, I found him. Uh. Hanging.”

Rey had heard it often enough to tell he was crying behind her. So Ben had found his dad. Then started working a hotline to prevent more people from committing suicide, going above and beyond and making himself reachable at all hours. Each text a responsibility, a life, and a constant reminder that his dad hadn’t had someone to talk to. Rey wiped at her eyes, because she had overheard enough from his nightmares to know he blamed himself. Maybe his father did it when he was staying with his mother.

They reached the peak in silence and Rey turned, pulling Ben into a hug. He squeezed her so tight her feet left the ground and the height over Edinburgh was dizzying, but he set her back down, sure-footed.

She had seen a glimpse behind the curtain and never wanted to let go. 

“Did you save anyone?” She asked, seriously, still clinging to him.

“Some of them,” he said, his voice strained, and his pain clawed at Rey’s heart. She sobbed into his scarf, uncontrollable. Silly for _his_ life to hit her so hard. But she had laughed once, thinking he knew nothing of hardship.

“You have to tell those people to call the hotline, Ben. You can’t keep reliving your dad’s death. It's tearing you apart,” she whispered, taking his hand.

“I know,” he said, out of breath, looking at her face. “I know.”

They heard the crack of thunder and turned to look at the city, full of medieval spires and chimney smoke wisps, blurry around the edges, sun on one side and black rain clouds looming on the other.


	7. It's thunder and it's lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Sitting with the lights off  
>  Waiting for my brain to start  
> Trying to work things out  
> It's thunder and it's lightning  
> And this whole thing’s too frightening  
> I could barely see outside  
> Your body was black and blue  
> It struck twice there's nothing new**
> 
> It’s Thunder and It’s Lightning by We Were Promised Jetpacks 
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is IMPERATIVE that you listen to the songs, especially for this chapter and the next. UGHHHH I love it.

The sky opened up and emptied all it had on them.

“Oh my god!” Rey laughed as they ran, half-sliding down the steep mountain. She’d caught herself twice already, wiping her dirty hands on the wet grass to clean them. 

She slipped again and Ben ran back to her, an I-told-you-so-grin from ear to ear, offering a hand and she took it, using it to steady herself. 

He pointed, chuckling, to other walkers as they struggled at the base to get indoors, their jackets held over their heads like umbrellas. His smile was wiped off though when he slipped too, the thick weld and wood sage breaking his fall.

“Ow,” he said, humbled.

Rey pulled him up, drenched to the bone, and they ran under the black sky and crackle of thunder and flashes, a second apart.

“Are you okay?” He shouted, smiling, just as thrilled to be caught in a freezing storm as she was. Because it was like St. Leonard’s. Not comfortable, but romantic as hell.

Rey nodded, but pulled him back when he turned to continue. It was like he was expecting it, her lips on his, higher on the trail, making it easier to kiss him. He spun fully back around and tilted his head to kiss her deeper, his thumbs on her ribs under her coat as his hands pulled her close and explored the feel of her.

He tasted like rain and shampoo, his hair dripping into their mouths, and she swallowed it down, smiling, pulling him tight until they were inside each other’s coats, their wet shirts touching, where all their heat was stored. He ground his hips into hers and she slid a hand down to feel him, hard and impressive—and no issue there. 

“Let’s go!” Rey cried urgently, and not because of the storm that had them both shaking.

In one breath, glancing from her eyes to her mouth, Ben turned and pulled her, down the mountain, one speedy heel pounding after the other with numb legs, through the trim grass of Holyrood Park to the sanctuary of St. Leonard’s. After the din of the storm, the staircase magnified their squeaky wet trainers and heavy breathing, but they weren’t saying a word, not until they got to 201, Ben unlocking the door with cold fingers that didn’t work and a key too small for his hands.

He looked down the hall while Rey ran inside and closed it behind them. Rey slammed him into his closet with her body and mouth, her jacket already on the floor and he grabbed her legs and carried her, setting her on her laptopless desk. Slowly, with finesse. Like he worked out to show off his strength. Like he could lift her like a feather.

His tongue on hers lit that fire that drove away thoughts of cold, even as he yanked her wet T-shirt over her head, grabbed her with cold hands and ripped her to the edge of the desk.

Wincing, he fumbled to get out of his clinging long-sleeve, but Rey held it and he ducked and backed out of it, slamming back into her kiss, afraid to lose momentum.

“I wanted to do this a month ago,” Ben said, his hands gripping her blue-jeaned thighs, which looked almost black, they were so wet.

“I wanted to pick you,” Rey said, in case he didn’t hear her the night she’d said it.

Ben’s hands tore at her button and zipper and she lifted her hips and he forced her jeans over her legs, inside out, taking her shoes and socks off, covered in mud and recently-mown Holyrood grass.

“Before that even,” Ben said, kicking off his shoes. “When I saw you sleeping without covers.” He ran a hand through his hair so he could see. “I wanted to warm you up.” He licked her neck, and ice-cold jeans touched her warm thighs and panties, curving into her, leaning her back.

She cried out when he was in just the right spot and he responded with a huff, rocking into her again. Her back arched on the desk and Ben unsnapped her bra, sucking and cupping her tits, his hands growing warm.

Rey could see more bruises down his back as he hunched over her, grinding and devouring her, until she felt the burning, pleading _want_ consuming her, pulling his face back up to kiss her so she could reach his trousers.

There was a knock at the door and they both shook their heads, kissing silently, pretending no one was home. He _dug himself into her crotch_ —and yes, he felt thick as a Coke can—but she stifled a moan, because _no way_ were they stopping. Not after all this time.

The person knocked again, “It’s Amber. I saw Rey come up.” She sounded annoyed.

They broke apart, a mirror of anger as they looked at each other. The scratch on his face from a pint glass. _Her_ fault. _Liars._

Rey pushed him back, reluctantly, setting her feet down on the floor. “Just a second,” she said to the door. She was low on clean clothes, but she threw on a shirt and shorts meant for summer.

Ben sat down at his desk, still shirtless, ready to let Amber see what she’d done to him while he pretended to look at his computer.

Rey opened the door and stepped out.

“Caught in the rain,” Rey said, wringing her hair out on the hall carpet, an excuse to cover her chest, braless still, under the shirt.

Amber looked like she’d just walked out of a Burberry photoshoot. “Good news,” she said, getting to the point, as if she was forced to do this and took no pleasure in it. “We’ve got a rroom for ye, had our firs dropout.”

_No!_ Rey thought. “Oh, great,” she said, calmly.

“Ya move in tomorrow. Just leave yer key with Army and you’ll be in my builden,” she said, looking at the crack to the room and speaking louder. “Baird House, with me and Crystal. Firs floor, I’m the RA, though, rroom 108.”

Rey wanted to cry, but wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Baird House was one of the modern buildings. And there was nothing she could do to change this. She wasn’t allowed to stay. 

Amber gave her a look of pure shade. Rey hadn’t realized she also had a problem with _her_ , and not just Ben. Could she tell? That Rey was flushed and kissed, her hands all over him two minutes ago?

As soon as she was gone, Ben stormed past Rey into the hall, walking the length to pound three times on Hux’s door.

“Is that any way to knock on yer kindly advisor’s door?” Hux answered sarcastically, stepping back as Ben entered without invitation. Hux gave her a dry smile and closed the door.

Rey took one step closer, but it wasn't necessary to eavesdrop, their voices carried.

“I don’t want her on Amber’s floor! Put someone else there and put Rey in their room!”

“It’s not my decision, Solo. I'm one RA, I can’t make demands.”

“They _hate_ her! They might try to _hurt_ her.”

“I doubt the RFC is going to beat up a gurrl.”

“They could do far _worse_ , have you thought of that? Piss drunk and willing to do anything for a night with the twins, money, you name it, those guys would do it.”

“Don’t be glaekit. No amount of sibling affection or tail would induce them to go after Rey like that.”

“She’s staying. I’ll call my uncle.”

“Ya dig yer own grave, dragging the Dean inta thes mess.”

“THEN I’LL BUY HER A FLAT!”

“With what money, _Bono_? Your dad's inheritance es conditional on graduating uni.”

“I COULD GIVE A FUCK!” Ben’s voice raised again and heads poked out from the other doors. But by then, Ben probably realized they’d have listening ears, and he came back out, sending the inhabitants into hiding at the sight of him, black and blue, angry and glaring, pulling Rey into 201 and pressing her to the closet before the door had fully closed. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her with surprising gentleness. 

Rey took a deep breath, shivering, her brain struggling to catch up with the last ten minutes.

“Go take a hot shower,” Ben prescribed, backing away. “I need to think.”


	8. It's been a while since I dreamed this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Death dreams you don't forget  
>  It's been a while since I dreamed this but  
> Even now, when asleep, I'll tread with care  
> Death dreams you don't forget**
> 
> Death Dreams by Frightened Rabbit
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is THE scene. This is THE song. So gal, you best be listening.

Rey frantically shaved her legs—once the hot water returned feeling to her digits—noticing her thighs were bright red from her cold jeans. She scrubbed her scalp with shampoo harder than usual, taking her fear out on her appearance. If ever she had a chance with Ben it was now, her last night in 201. They had been so close, her hands on his god. Damn. Zipper.

She was tired and starving after the hike, and cold did that, made her hungrier, telling her body to put on fat that she couldn’t provide. In fact, she’d never been this skinny. This dangerously skinny. She knew it was bad when she’d missed her period. Life was unfair, letting her waste away amongst so much privilege and wealth. The only balance was Ben. Too handsome, too good for her. More than she deserved, and yet. She pictured his hug atop Arthur’s Seat and smiled. Maybe they would cross the great divide. Of rumors and money and a class system as old as the city. 

Rey usually let her hair dry naturally, but this wasn’t a usual night. She lotioned every inch of her body, tugging on a long T-shirt and panties, and dried her hair with care, the white noise of the dryer in her ear blocking out the gossiping girls in the stalls. She still had to ask Rose what she knew. Because Ben told her something different every time she asked about that night. 

_“I don’t know, Rey. Never have a threesome. Someone always gets left out.”_

_“Yeah, like they want to brag about how they tried to get me off and couldn’t.”_

_“Half this building thinks I did something wrong—sexually—to the twins. And I would never do that!”_

Rey pulled her summer shorts back on, even though the T-shirt covered them, and carried her dripping shower caddy back upstairs, the adrenaline making her hand shake on the doorknob. She almost groaned aloud when she saw Ben, passed out with their empty Tesco bottle in the crook of his arm, having found a different way to warm up.

His back was spotted with bruises like a dalmatian and she set her caddy down and walked closer, slipping the bottle out from his arm and unscrewing the cap to drink the last few drops herself. She swallowed and tasted self pity, pulling Ben’s covers higher and shutting off his table lamp, before shimmying out of her shorts and climbing into bed as quietly as possible.

The lack of cars on the cobblestoned street became quiet that penetrated the room and Rey took her pill, having silenced her watch alarm in the showers, expecting it might interrupt what would have been an amazing night. She ached between her legs and pulled her knees to her chest, still sitting in silence as dawn approached, her head jolting with sleep, but she stayed awake, memorizing the moment of being in love and in St. Leonards, with rain streaming down the window and the smell of Ben in the air. Like sweat and musk and clean, New Bond Street clothes.

“Fuck,” Ben groaned and Rey turned her feet to the floor, pulling the blankets off of her legs and taking the dark three steps to Ben’s bed. 

“Wake up, Ben,” she said, running a hand over his bruised shoulder blade. This might be the last nightmare she could ever prevent.

He turned on his side and moved closer to the wall, _making space_? Reaching his hand out, she took it as confirmation and climbed in with him, under the covers, a cocoon of warmth at her back and his breath on her neck. He was down to his boxer briefs, by the feel of his legs on hers. He’d never worn so little around her.

“Rey,” he said seriously, setting off every nerve and vein in her body.

“Yeah?” Rey said, closing her eyes as a huge hand touched her hip, traveling north, over her panties and ribs, halting at the bottom of her right breast, his fingertips digging in, possessively. Drunkenly. Lazily.

“That wasn’t a nightmare,” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. His hand finally moved up to envelope her breast, pulling her tight against him. And _him_ down there, hard against her arse. He’d been having a dream. A good one, by the feel of it.

“Sorry,” Rey breathed, arching into him, his hips and his straining briefs, positioning herself to tease, though she’d have him out in a second if she knew he wanted to wake up.

The hand on her breast dipped into her panties without warning, his fingers pressing on her lewdly, up and down. “Fuck,” he said hoarsely, into her neck, before inching closer, his hand still working. “You feel amazing.”

She wondered if he meant because she was shaven and soft. Or because she was wetter than Scotland’s rainy season.

He reached further, driving his middle and ring finger into her, his head rolling sleepily against her shoulder. Calm, practiced. He’d done this a hundred times and she was having an ecstatic, silent, panic attack. 

“You okay?” He asked, when she bit her lip, his fingers going into her and up to her clit, into her, clit, rough, calloused guitar string fingers.

She was more than okay, but she wasn’t moving or making a sound, like a stunned animal, not knowing what to do. Afraid it might stop.

“Don’t stop,” she said quickly, and there was the plea sound that wracked her brain day and night. And there was her body, remembering to move, to do what she wanted, spread her legs slightly and turn on her back. 

He sat up, tearing her panties down her legs and laying back down, his head propped up on an elbow, as if he was watching a movie on his laptop, and not fingering his roommate. It was intimidating, hard to focus, even though her eyes were closed, feeling his breath on her cheek. 

His lips moved on hers, dismantling every self conscious thought. She let go. Dragging her hands through his hair, dry now, running them down his chest, the taut, bruised skin of Dorian Gray, holding his tense arm in encouragement, feeling his muscles move there, and his tongue in her mouth and his smell in her nose, stronger than she’d ever smelt it.

She could feel her name on the tip of his tongue. Her stupid boy’s name. The only thing her parents ever gave her. She could feel his cock digging into her hip, flattering, and provoking her. He was waiting for her to come and she’d have to be patient. Though not for long it seemed, as she grew close to climaxing, helping it along by kissing him harder, tensing her thighs, feeling her nerves alive and ready, climbing the mountain and grabbing Ben at the top, then sliding back down with a cry and an exhale.

Ben stretched his hand, like he did after hours of guitar, grinning down at her. “Want me to show you what I was dreaming about?” He asked in his familiar bedroom tone.

Rey cleared her throat, “Sure.” _Wow, it was quiet._ And she was breathing hard. She wondered if the boys next door heard her cry out. Probably. She was thankful Hux was at the other end of the hall.

Ben slid under the covers and she knew what that meant. From gossip. He parted her legs further, his hair tickling her thighs and his nose bumped her, before she felt his tongue. Hot. Insistent. Not licking so much as circling, pressing hard, then he sucked and she almost screamed. She didn’t know sex was so indecent. Or could feel that good. She felt the breath of a laugh between her legs, because she’d gasped. 

She wanted more of that, but she really _really_ wanted to touch _him_. And she didn’t like that his body had been glued to her and was now so far away. “I’m ready, pleeease,” she begged, pulling on his arms. He gave her a firm lick, from her entrance to her clit, and sat up, reaching behind him in his desk drawer and tearing a condom wrapper with his teeth. 

“Come here,” he said, gently, juxtaposing his actions, ripping her down the bed, splayed and swollen and squirming with fear and excitement. He must have pulled himself out and rolled the condom on, because he was already rubbing spit on himself and she caught a glimpse. _Oh. Fuck._

He crawled over her, sucking her breast and dragging teeth over her neck. “Stop looking at me like that,” he said, smirking. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Rey smiled, but tensed when she felt him rub his tip up and down her slit, then push inside. “Ow ow ow,” she heard herself say, almost faster than the pain, too late because her body had already stretched and let him in to fill her, inch after glorious inch. She might have torn, but it felt good now, the friction, his hot breath on her chest as he raised himself off of her. Like a push-up.

“Now?” He asked, making sure she was okay, knowing the answer already, because she’d opened her legs as wide as they could go, grabbed the sheets and tipped her head back as Ben split her open, and made her drunk on her own body’s hormones. That hazy, sweet morning feeling that was somewhere between sleep and awake.

She could only look at him in response, the plea on her face and he licked his lips and kissed her, like they only had now and tomorrow she’d be gone, an empty bed on the other side of the room. He curved into her, again and again, squeezing her breasts and breathing even louder than she was. Rey wondered about his ‘issue’ and if he could _get there_.

“Take it off,” she whined. He couldn’t feel her with it on. It was between them and she hated it. 

“What? The condom?” He asked, not stopping.

“Yes,” she implored.

“Why? Does it hurt?” He asked, looking down, stopping, pulling out.

“No,” Rey cried, reaching, rolling it off, throwing it in the floor. “Feel me,” she begged. And he did, no spit required, driving himself into her and bottoming out, sighing into her chest and lifting himself off. 

“God,” he muttered, shuddering, and she could tell. That it felt different and he liked it better.

Rey arched, feeling his dull fullness sliding back and forth inside her, warmer, slipperier, realer. She keened and slapped the side of a fist into the wall, forgetting about the boys next door, and Ben wiped his forehead, his eyes shut tight, his breathing jagged.

“Rey,” he warned her, pulling her hands away, ripping out of her and warming the bed sheets between her legs with his come. 

She was so close, still red and breathing hard, hanging onto the feeling, wishing he hadn’t yet, halfway up the mountain. He watched her, then his hand slid between her legs again, pushing her up the bed, away from his come, rubbing her with his already-sticky hand, sucking her tit and gasping for air himself. It felt like gratitude. For getting him there. And she came on his hand, burying her head in his pillow. Musk and sweat and New Bond Street clothes.


	9. Here is a bedroom that you've never been in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Here is a bedroom that you've never been in and  
>  Here is your shovel, there's the ground  
> Look, two lovers covered in covers  
> I can put us to bed tonight  
> I am bruised but she is dressing my wounds  
> Night nursing a broken man**
> 
> Nothing Like You by Frightened Rabbit
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

“Don’t you like Baird better than those musty buildings from the 1800’s?” Rey’s new roommate said from her desk as Rey threw her bin bag—looking worse for wear—on the mattress.

“1500’s” Rey corrected her. _Just 300 years off_ , she thought acidly. But it wasn’t her roommate’s fault that Rey didn’t like her. She wasn’t Ben.

“Oh, right you are,” she said as if she’d forgotten. Rey tried to remember her name. Kadale? Kaydel? She sounded like she was from London too.

“You look familiar,” a boy said from the hall. 

Rey turned, “Oh, hi!” It was Dark Haired Door Guy!... _Poe_? “Poe, right?”

“Yeah, I’m on the fourth floor. You moving in?” He nodded at Kaydale and stepped across the threshold, glancing down the hall as if he were trespassing and bound to get in trouble.

“Yes, long story. They had me on a guy’s floor for a month by accident,” Rey said, remembering she was supposed to throw her shit down and go straight back to 201. Ben was going to take her somewhere far from campus for lunch. Somewhere rugby players wouldn’t go.

“That was _you_? I heard about that,” he said, licking his lips and smiling, shoving a hand in his pocket. “You know. I can’t believe you gave me the Irish goodbye.”

“How’s Crystal?” Kraydel piped up, pointedly. As if he was dating _Crystal_ and shouldn’t be talking to Rey. Like that. Flirtatiously.

Poe laughed, his cheeks reddening. “Couldn’t tell which one was which. So. Probably for the best.”

That wasn’t really...clarifying.

“I’m heading out-,” Rey started, but Poe took it like an invitation to escape her roommate’s eagle-like gaze.

“Yeah, me too,” he said, scratching his temple. “Library.”

He followed her down the hall, noticeably quiet when they passed by Amber’s door and Rey would bet anything Crystal didn’t know he was rethinking dating an identical twin.

“Bye, I’m going the other way. Couple things left in my old room,” she lied. She still had to get her covers and sheets, but she was going to wait until the last possible second.

“I wasn’t really going to the library,” Poe grinned, walking beside her. “I just didn’t want to get your number in front of your roommate.”

Rey stared at her feet as they walked, faster, nervously, “I don’t have a phone.”

He scoffed, like he thought she was lying. Like he could take a hint.

“I really don’t. You can search me,” Rey laughed as they neared St. Leonard’s. 

Poe watched her go in alone. “Maybe I will,” he said boldly, before she reached the staircase.

Ben was walking down the hall when she reached the top of the stairs. He saw. He saw. And he didn’t like it, grabbing her by the legs and pressing her into Hux’s door, kissing her and grinding into her leggings.

He wasn’t mad, just reminding her. That she picked him. He carried her to 201, not breaking the kiss, fumbling with the doorknob and laying her down on the carpet. 

“I just ran into him,” Rey smiled, watching as Ben peeled her leggings off with her panties and flipped her flat on her stomach.

Ben raised her up a few inches from the floor, unbuttoning himself with one hand and massaging her with the other. “I don’t care about him,” Ben lied. “I worry about you being at Baird House.”

His dick hit her arse cheek. Hard and heavy and he spat in his hand, not even bothering with the condom this time. They both liked it better without.

Rey knew he thought the rugby players might target her. For some reason. She’d put the cop’s whistle in her bag next to her birth control.

“Fuck, you’re still slick,” he groaned.

He slid into her—still hurt—massaging her clit forcefully, flattening himself on top of her and biting on her shirt, thrusting immediately. 

_Oh god. That position._

Rey was _sore_ , from mere hours ago, but on her back felt nothing like this. Why hadn’t he told her about _this_? The tip of his cock was pounding her front wall, right into the floor where it hit and dug higher.

“Ahhh,” she whined, all talking forgotten, two minutes in and ready to come.

Ben ripped the hand on her clit away, cruelly, playfully pressing her hard into the carpet from between her shoulder blades. “Tell me you want me,” he said, darkly, pounding harder, claiming her.

She didn’t even need that hand, she was going to come anyway, with her breasts squashed painfully beneath her and her knees rubbing raw on the carpet. “I want you,” she pleaded, realizing it was a slower climb without that hand.

“AAAH,” she cried louder, his hand attacking her clit and his tip hitting that place, those nerves, that spot. That spot. There. There. There.

She came, screaming, wondering how long he’d had a hand muffling her mouth. Ben ripped out, _exploding hot come_ on her arse, shushing her, too busy with pumping himself dry to keep her quiet.

“Shh,” he smirked from his knees. “This isn’t a frat house. We’re not supposed to fuck in the dorms.”

Rey was wondering how she was going to clean his spend off, when he grabbed a roll of kitchen paper from under his bed and wiped her off, giving her arse a squeeze.

“I. Uh. Had never come during sex,” Ben said, turning her around. “Until last night. Just masterbating, is when I can.”

“ _Really_?” Rey asked, watching him wipe his fingers off.

“Yeah. It’s weird. It’s like, so much more embarrassing to come than not to come,” he laughed.

“I like it,” Rey said, truthfully. She could listen to him stifling groans all day long. 

Ben looked so good after sex. Red-faced and shy-eyed. “Hungry?”

Rey had never heard a sexier word. “You have no idea.”

————————————-

Rey’s stomach had shrunk so much, she could only fit half a Pret falafel wrap, before she was satisfied. 

“You’re vegan, aren’t you?” Rey asked, watching Ben read ingredients on a packet of crisps, before tearing into them.

He grinned. 

“Why?” Rey asked, rolling her wrap back up and stuffing it in her rucksack.

“It’s healthier,” he said, quickly.

Rey shook her head. “You passed out holding a bottle of vodka last night. What’s the real reason?”

Ben ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. _Busted_. “Because my dad was. And he and my mom had a big, shaggy highland cow named Chewie, still does, at my mom’s in Killin. Ironically,” he laughed at the town name.

“Maybe someday I’ll meet Chewie,” Rey laughed, as they stood. 

“We’ll have to hurry then,” Ben said. “Cause he’s old as fuck.”

\----------------------------------------------

Ben glared at the Baird House as they approached and he handed off her folded blanket and sheet and pillowcase. 

He had offered to buy her a phone so they could talk, but she refused. Too expensive. More than she could pay back. 

“I’m worried,” he said, when she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him goodnight. 

“About the evil twins and the RFC?”

“Yes. And no,” he hinted.

Rey kissed him, trying to light his fire, letting the blanket fall to their feet, his hands wrap around her back. She almost suggested they go back to 201, but she needed sleep. And she wouldn’t get any with Ben around.

“Don’t worry about him,” she reassured him. She should never have mentioned that Poe the dark haired door guy was in her residence hall. “And I won’t worry about you, shagging Hux while I’m gone.”

Ben snorted, letting her go. Not looking completely pacified as she gathered her covers and went inside.

Rey found an envelope in her pillowcase with a stack of notes she never asked for, more money than she’d ever held at one time. The outside of the envelope read _Use what you need and pay me back if you will die otherwise._ She could have cried. She’d get to do laundry. And buy food and more socks and she could start a payment plan on a phone or a computer if she wanted. Kadeyl thought she was protesting technology or something.

It should have been easy to sleep. She had a full stomach and hadn’t slept well the night before and she’d had _a lot_ of physical activity in the last two days, but it was hard, picturing Ben alone, having a nightmare, fists clenching, crying, for who knew how long. She hoped the floor and her kiss would be enough to give him a good dream.

“You still awake?” Klaydale asked.

“Yeah,” Rey said, glancing at her watch. Almost midnight and she had to be awake at 6am.

“Have you thought about filing a lawsuit against the admissions board member?” She asked curiously.

Rey couldn’t think of a response. What was she talking about?

“ _Who?_ ”

“You know,” she whispered. “The one you had to sleep with to get into uni.”

Rey sat up in bed. Now there were rumors about _her_ too?

“ _What?!”_ She wanted to storm down the hall and kick down Amber’s door. 

And she would. This week. When she had some clean clothes and could look her in the eye.


	10. And here is where my whole world turns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **And here is where my whole world turns  
>  And here is where my heart returns  
> And here is where I've sworn and cursed  
> And here is where I kissed you first  
> In amber light shot through with rain  
> I swear I don't intend to waste a syllable  
> Each word is blessed  
> The truth must blaze through every single breath**
> 
> Here Is Where by There Will Be Fireworks
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

On Thursday, after classes, Rey saw her chance to speak to Amber. The RA whiteboard on her door indicated she was running the Holyrood trail—known as the Queen’s Drive. Rey spotted both twins with a group of girls taking sunset selfies by St. Margaret’s Loch. Their faces were pristine under an hour’s worth of makeup, their trainers spotless. _Running indeed._

Rey had eaten well that week—thanks to Ben’s pillowcase money—and washed her clothes. She’d chosen the pullover she bought with Ben, for courage, but she still felt conspicuous as she walked towards the gang, all in leggings and sports bras.

“Rey!” The wannabe bulimic from Bow’s shouted invitingly. Apparently being a shagger of admissions board members hadn’t been as damning as the twins had intended.

“Hi,” Rey said, squinting against the sun and flipping her hand in a wave.

“How are you liking Baird House?” Amber or Crystal asked, as if they knew she hated it, trying to get into St. Leonard’s without a key—or a phone to tell Ben when she was coming for a 201 closet-denting fuck. 

Who needed to work out or run when keeping up with Ben in 201 was as much as her body could handle…

“Loving it,” Rey lied. “Except, I wonder if you could help me,” she said, to the group in general. “There’s talk that I slept with someone to get into uni.”

“I did hear thaat,” Redhead Bulimia said thickly, sadly. 

“From who?” Rey asked, watching her eyes slide to the twins. Rey’s temper flared, suspicions confirmed.

“So. That’s not true. And neither is whatever the twins are saying about Ben Solo.”

Amber or Crystal sneered. “Ye _would_ defend hem. He’s yer boyfrrend. Or one of them,” she muttered aside to the girls.

“I-,” Rey started to scream but the other twin cut her off.

“Go back to yer man, ye two can have each other. Slimy, stealthing, drug dealer or the like,” she spat out.

Rey blinked. Clearly Ben’s phone calls had created gossip. That he was some kind of dealer. But she didn’t know what the other word meant.

“What the fuck is ‘ _stealthing_ ’?” Rey asked.

“Et’s when the lad sneaks the condom off. Without permission,” Redhead Bulimia explained. “Et’s basically rrape.”

Rey’s heart sank into her stomach. Why did the lie...not feel like a horrible, outlandish lie?

“Christ,” Redheaded Bulimia said, looking at Rey’s face. “He do it to ye too? Preck.”

“No,” Rey said, trying to keep her eyes dry, afraid to add weight to the lie. Or possible half truth. She needed to find Rose. 

“I’ve got schoolwork,” Rey said, walking away. 

_Oh god. Oh god._ Could Ben be so manipulative? To lie about an issue, to get her to take it off? Could he do that to the twins, pissed and not in his right mind? Or were they lying??

She tried to walk as if not upset. They were likely watching her. She forgot to refute the drug dealer bit as well. Though that could have been an honest mistake on their part. Hux was the only one who knew about his dad and the hotline.

She ran into Ben on the way to St. Leonard’s and she couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’ll talk later, have to ask Rose something.” 

He sensed the mistrust. “What happened?” He asked, stepping in front of her.

“Nothing,” Rey cried, taking a step back.

“Those girls are crazy, Rey. Did you hear about the rumor?” He asked, stepping closer.

They’d talked last night and he said he still didn’t know what they were telling people.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, right Ben?” Rey said, backing away. “You wouldn’t.”

“No. No way,” he said, looking horrified. It felt fake. Everything about him was fake. A Dorian Gray facade. 

She wondered if he’d even dreamed of her that night. Rey reached into her rucksack and pulled out the notes, throwing them on the ground.

“I don’t believe you,” she admitted. The twins weren’t lying. They were just talking about what Ben had done. It wasn’t something they made up later. They were mad at him that night.

“Rey!” Ben shouted, leaving the money and running after her, grabbing her arm with surprising tenderness that broke her heart. 

“GET OFF ME, BEN!” She cried, and he let go.

She didn’t move, just stared at him, trying to read him. His eyes on the verge of lover or enemy, deciding which way to go, depending on her and what she said next.

But his phone buzzed and he looked at it, holding his finger up and answering it in a voice of forced calm.

“Hi, David, right? No, I don’t call the police.” He looked at her, begging for her to wait. That this was important to him. 

Rey took the opportunity to escape, walking away. He said he wasn’t going to do that anymore. 

When she pushed into Baird House, Ben was still standing there, talking on the phone, watching her, looking grim, his wasted money blown halfway to Holyrood Park.

———————————

Monday, Rey thought to check her bank balance, practically hugging the ATM when she saw she’d been paid. She went straight to Pret and bought a wrap, able to eat the whole thing now. She stopped to buy socks on the way back to the Residence Halls and filled her rucksack with the other snacks she’d bought—all bloody vegan—because she couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting an animal now.

It was getting dark when Rey saw two muddy rugby players, fresh off a field somewhere in their jerseys and shorts. They bypassed her on her way to the library, but paid her no mind—except to glance at her legs. Rey still remembered Ben’s fear and she looked over her shoulder to be certain they weren’t turning around. Instead she saw Hux, walking not far behind her.

Rey paused, waiting for him to catch up. “You’re looking droll. Are you following me?” She asked, half-joking, letting him know he was still her friend. He wasn’t a _stealther_.

“I am,” he said, seriously, looking intently at his Oxfords.

“Why?” Had he followed her all the way from Baird House to the library?

“Ben asked me to,” Hux admitted, taking her heavy rucksack and holding out his hand towards the building, trying not to slow her down with conversation.

“Psh,” Rey muttered. “He needs to worry about his own skin,” she said, following Hux inside. Maybe Hux thought it was safer there, with staff and students and lights.

“He was worried. Probably why he dropped out,” Hux said, informing her. 

Rey’s lungs stopped, but she continued walking towards the stairs of the Main Library.

By the look on his face, he didn’t know they’d had a fight. He thought Ben had just wanted to leave without telling her. Like an Irish goodbye.

Rey wanted to feel broken and lost. And she would have, were it not for what the twins had said. But perhaps it was better that Ben left. She wouldn’t run into him now and have a shouting match on the pavement.

But. It was kind of him. To ask his friend to look out for her. No one else seemed to notice where she went or what she did. They walked quieter, post-grads and undergrads everywhere, reading silently. There was a table by the southwest corner, with a view of the meadow and the mountain range.

“Where’d he go? Killin?” Rey asked, sitting down and flicking on a lamp. She didn’t want to show too much interest. Hux could still text Ben updates on her. 

“His mum’s? No, they don’t get on anymore,” Hux said, sitting across from her.

  
Ben hadn’t mentioned that. He’d talked about his mother’s home fondly. She was beginning to feel like she didn’t know Ben at all. It had taken her weeks to even uncover that he was just as Scottish as he was American.

She waited. “Then where would he go?” Rey asked, taking her rucksack back, pulling out her books. She hoped he hadn’t gone back to America. 

“Oh,” Hux leaned back, “Where all the starving artists go, no doubt. Some rrodent-infested London flat...or a dilapidated boat house rrotting on some toff’s estate.”

Rey swallowed. Hux was trying to make light of the truth. That Ben was gone. And even he didn’t know where.


	11. To be the song she wants to hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **She says she barely sleeps  
>  And if she does it's fitfully  
> Hears footsteps in the leaves  
> And if she dreams she dreams of  
> The sounds you'll never speak  
> The words you leave between the beat  
> Of clashing teeth and tongues  
> The roar of background hum  
> That blooms inside her listening ears  
> To be the song she wants to hear**
> 
> Foreign Thoughts by There Will Be Fireworks
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

“You look tired,” Hux said, quietly. 

Rey couldn’t tell if he was making conversation or actually worried about her. She hadn’t slept well since her fight with Ben. Either way, “Never tell a girl she looks tired.”

The library was practically empty, past 8pm and Hux sighed, bored, playing a game on his phone. _Guarding_ her. He probably wanted to get back to Rose. 

_Rose._

“Walk me to St. Leonard’s?” Rey asked. She didn’t need his protection, so much as his residence key. But he looked pleased, relieved to go, and proud to be needed. 

_She needed_ to talk to Rose. She had been avoiding St. Leonard's because Ben was there. But now...

They found her in the common room, having a movie night with the first floor girls, all in pajama sets, like a theme. Rey wished the girls of Baird House were half that close. Rose pulled Rey into her bedroom—fully decorated and cozy—so unlike Rey’s sterile room with Kaydel. 

Rey missed the small St. Leonard’s rooms and the drafty windows and dark-wooded, old timey closets. Everything reminded her of Ben.

“Ya ken he’s gone then?” Rose said softly, sitting Rey down on her bed. “It’s—and pardon my Frrench—horseshite. All of it, Rey.”

Rey’s heart lifted, hopefully, carefully. Waiting for proof. 

“I was comen back from Bow’s with Army and we heard what they were saying. It was dark, then, and they didn’t see us, blathering on about how Ben had said yer name. Jacking hem off and he’d said _your_ name. They were livid!” Rose said. “We dinnae ken they were going to go after hem like that. Filth-ay liars.”

Rey’s jaw was clenched so tight, from cold and anxiety. She believed Rose. And she knew Ben. Maybe he’d taken the condom off for a handjob—not needed for that—and given them the idea. To declare him a _stealther_.

Rey growled, standing. “Those bitches!”

“Aye, let it out,” Rose said.

“They were _jealous_! They almost got him killed because they were jealous! Ben dropped out because of this! One night piss drunk and said the wrong name, it’s not fair!” Rey shouted, kicking her rucksack.

She didn’t have a phone, but Hux could call him. She gave Rose a tight hug, running up to the second floor and pounding on his door.

“ _What_ es it? In need of my escort services?” He joked, but she ran inside.

“You have to tell Ben for me. That I believe him and he has to come back. I made a mistake and we had a fight.” 

Hux propped his door open with a triangle of wood, probably a requirement if a female student was in his room. “I’ll do et. Maybe he’ll read et. But I’ve sent hem a dozen messages sense he left and he’s not responding.”

Rey started pacing.

“But...” Hux said, looking at her. “What with the RFC hounding you…”

Rey shook her head. “They aren’t, though.”

“Yes. I ken that, but Ben doesn’t, does he?” Hux grinned. “He’d come back. If I said ye were in danger.”

“I don’t know,” Rey said. _Lies lies lies._

“Et’s that or act suicidal,” Hux said, his ideas getting worse.

“Fine, message him. Say there’s a suspicious amount of rapey-looking rugby players following me around,” Rey said, thinking. “You do that. And I’ll take care of the twins,” she said, a different type of fire lit in her now. 

She wanted to take them down. “But I need the key to 201.”

———————————————-

Rey slipped notes under Amber and Crystal’s doors, telling them to meet her at 201. She peppered the messages with threats. To tell the Dean, that she had proof they were lying about Ben, two witnesses who had heard what really happened, a rugby player willing to say the twins lies incited them to violence. That last one would have been a nice-to-have, but Rey had never spoken to a rugby man and she wasn’t about to start now.

They probably thought—by the clandestine nature of the meeting—that Rey was trying to blackmail them or something, and she’d let them assume so. Books _were_ expensive.

Rey sat down at her old desk and waited, surprised when they showed up on time, locking the door, and looking about the room. As if it was dirty and small and they didn’t want to be there long.

“Take yer thrreats,” one said, slamming Rey’s notes down on her desk. “They’re useless. We’re not going to give you anythen.”

“We’ll see,” Rey said, standing up and leaning on the desk. “I know exactly what happened that night. I wasn’t aware _stealthing_ applied to handjobs,” she said loudly.

The twins eyes flashed. Called out.

“Were you that mad that he’d said my name? He was pissed out of his gourd. Was that worth having the RFC think he was some kind of rapist? They smashed a pint glass over his face!” Rey shouted. 

The twins’ mouths had grown tight. “Are ye recording thes?” One said, suspiciously. They searched Rey’s empty jean pockets with their eyes. "Aw. Can’t, can ye? Too brroke to buy a phone.” They laughed, looking _nothing_ like Instagram royalty.

Rey looked down at the floor, her face falling.

Amber or Crystal continued, “Ye can tell your wetnesses they’ll never prove anythen. They weren’t here, _in the room_. It was us and Ben and it’s our word against hes. Two against one.” 

Rey wiped at her eyes.

“At least call off the RFC, they’re going to kill him!” Rey cried.

“Call them off? I hope they catch hem and yer next if ye think ye can send us thrreats!” 

“You two are _not_ the picture perfect pair everyone thinks you are,” she said, walking to the door. 

“Eat shite, ye wee slut.”

“Aye, no one gives a fuck about ye.”

Rey opened the door, where Rose and Hux had brought a hall _full_ of eavesdroppers, standing quietly, mouths open in silent shock that Rey's trick had worked.

“These shitty old buildings,” Rey chuckled, seeing their faces go white. “The acoustics really carry.”

——————————————

Rey was sitting on Ben’s bed, listening to the music only she could hear, but Ben was nowhere in sight. She pulled the headphones off, slid her feet to the floor and walked around the room, like 201, only warmer, with a new carpet and plants and sunlight streaming in through the window.

She went looking for Ben. Not in the hall. Not talking on the phone on the top stair. Not in the common room. Not on the pavement. 

She went back inside and put on the headphones. How could she hear the notes if he wasn’t close by? 

Rey laid down and heard his voice weaving into the song. 

_“I wanted to warm you up.”_

His hands pushed under her shirt and she arched her back, not opening her eyes. 

Ben was back. 

He pulled her bra down far enough to suck her tits and he kissed her neck too, he was everywhere, pushing into her and thrusting and she gripped his hair as he buried his head in her chest, panting, _trying to get there_.

“Take it off,” she said.

“What?” Kaydel said from her desk. 

Rey’s head snapped up. She was face down on her bed with Oscar Wilde’s essays under her cheek.

“Is the music bothering you?” Kaydel asked, pulling her phone out of the speaker where it was docked.

“No,” Rey said, sitting up. “I like it.”

Kaydel was nicer to her now. Now that the twins had become infamous pathological liars. Amazing how fast gossip spread at a place like this. It had been less than 24 hours and everyone was being so...nice.

“Knock knock,” Poe said at the door, wearing his dusky, dark academia finest.

Kaydel _didn’t_ give him the side-eye now, to her credit.

“Hey, Poe,” Rey yawned. She wasn’t _entirely_ put off to see him back. Rey wondered if she just got on better with guys than girls. As long as they could take a hint. Which Poe could. Sometimes.

“I heard about...uh everything,” he laughed, as if it were a _bit_ more drama than he cared for. “Thought maybe you could use a strong drink?”

Rey looked at her watch. “It’s 2 o’clock on a Wednesday.”

  
Poe grinned. “Yeah, but,” he said, stretching on her door frame like a model in a male fragrance ad, “It’s _Scotland._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update won't be til Monday. :( 
> 
> I have a full rescue trip planned for this weekend. Taking pigs from Seattle to a sanctuary in Oregon, then going to Northern CA to get a blind calf and a dog and bring them to Oregon too!
> 
> But I'll probably finish this tale Monday or Tuesday :D


	12. My friend, you know I loved you the best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **I remember that  
>  I remember that  
> By twelve  
> You were pretty far gone  
> But that's cool  
> We could be here until dawn  
> My friend  
> You know I loved you the best  
> And fuck the rest**
> 
> The Harmonium Song by There Will Be Fireworks
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 chapters of Ben’s perspective coming!!!
> 
> Here was my rescue trip: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJyYaUqC/

Hux gave him a pat on the shoulder, using that hand to steer him toward the pubs. _The Scottish solution to everything._ Ben cut across the grass, ignoring the university’s signs that requested otherwise, but Hux rolled his eyes and took the sidewalk, forcing him to stop and wait for him.

“Hux, you realize how fucked up this situation is, don’t you? She’d probably rather put her mattress on the floor of a girl’s room than be in there with me,” Ben said, not mentioning that she’d walked in on him with Crystal, his overly-helpful Check In Day buddy.

“That es against fire code. Are ye worried she’ll catch you jerken off or es et because yer still head fucked after your da?” 

Hux always tried to turn uncomfortable topics into some kind of quip. When Ben had returned to St. Augustine’s a mute wreck, Hux was the only prefect to ask him what had happened in America. 

“Head fucked,” Ben said. Because the _other_ thing had already crossed his mind. And he could always rub one out in the shower.

“She’ll be gone en a week, firs on the list for a new rroom. I promise,” Hux said, sounding more serious now. “She’s a bet cute, though, en she?” He said brightly, not for himself, but to cheer Ben.

“Makes it worse,” Ben said. He never slept over at a girl’s room for fear he’d have a nightmare or they’d overhear a private phone call. 

“Ded I see Crystal take ye to yer room?” Hux pried as they neared The Bow Bar. 

So much for not telling him. And no use denying it. Hux might have even overheard her talking to Amber at the check in table.

“Rey came in. While she was giving me a...but I don’t think she saw anything,” he said, watching Hux stick his fingers in his ears. 

“La la la. I dedn’t hear it.”

There was something hot about Rey’s innocent face catching him, watching him pull his sweater back on, holding her breath when he squeezed by her. And honestly, her interruption was perfectly timed. He’d already gotten Crystal off by hand and he was never going to come like that. Being sucked off with a condom on.

“I should have invited Rey out for a drink,” Ben said, opening the door, feeling the warmth of a crowded pub, full of students in their brand new school clothes.

“She’s yer roommate, Solo,” Hux said. “Nomore _hanky panky in the Residence Halls._ Invite her another night when we go as a group. So she doesnae get the wrong idea,” Hux suggested.

Ben chewed his cheek as they worked their way to the bar, only to spend the rest of the night thinking about _the wrong idea._

—————————————

Ben had run back to the house, but slowly returned. The backyard hadn’t been mowed and the grass was twice as long as his dad liked it. But the neighbors were all too far away to have noticed the yard. 

Ben peeked around the open door to his dad’s wood shop, the cedar sawdust not masking the smell. _Like roadkill_ , he thought.

How long had he- when was the last time Ben called? Was it _because_ he hadn’t called?

His mom was going to be so upset. He’d have to go back and tell her himself. His eyes searched the room for a saw or scissors to cut the rope, his feet afraid to leave the invisible line between outside and in. 

Father’s Day. He hadn’t called since Father’s Day. 

He should cut the rope. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stand on the same chair his dad had used. Couldn’t see his body fall. 

He was _fifteen._

He ran. 

“Hey, wake up,” a girl said, and he wiped his face with his arm. _Oh, shit. College._ Female roommate. Freezing cold hand.

“Oh, was I-,” he started, but she was creaking back onto her bare mattress and instead of pitying himself, he pitied her. And her cold hands. 

She probably didn’t have the money to get a blanket, because she’d had all day to go get one. 

Without thinking, he put his blanket on her and asked that she keep his secret. She still sounded like she wanted to punch him in the face. But they were alike, the two of them. 

Lonely, four feet from someone else.

————————————-

As soon as Hux left, the air in the room became charged. Like it had been moving, then became still. He offered to leave, so she could change. Flight mode. Any time he was anxious.

She didn’t want to change. She wasn’t insulted though, so that was good. He wondered if she liked him _like that_ yet. He couldn’t stop staring at her lips. Even at night, in the dark, when she woke him up.

She couldn’t go out like that, though. The girls would make fun of her.

He grabbed a pair of scissors, and spun her around. Her hips were surprisingly soft, the rest of her fragile and somehow not at the same time. Like she was little, but scrappy. Lean. Despite her round face.

He cut away at the hoodie, touching her more than he needed to, less than he wanted to, swaying under the influence of their drinking game. His memory for quotations worked, but his balance sucked.

Still holding the bottom half of her shirt, he slid his hand along the strip of naked skin he’d exposed. That she’d let him expose. Warm and smooth while her arms curled over her chest, nervous despite the liquor. She either liked him or she was a virgin. Maybe both.

“There,” he said, trying to sound approving, because he didn’t know how to compliment her figure without sounding out of line. Out of the blue.

They walked to the pub and he struggled to keep his hands off her, but he wanted her with him. He wanted to warm her stomach with drinks all night and warm her bed until morning. He didn’t care if people talked about them. It was a temporary situation, the shared room. Maybe another few days.

Hux gave him the look that he sometimes did. Like when he walked on the grass right in front of him. That look that he knew Ben was going to break the school rules and Hux was going to turn a blind eye with a sigh. Because even though they were friends, Hux would always be a prefect and Ben would always be the half-heathen American. Skipping class and running away from school twice a year to go to a London concert.

Rey looked around the bar, everywhere but at him, his usual line not working on her. Nothing worked on her. She picked a guy by the door instead. A guy with a smile that could pull her out of her fog to blush and stare at her hands. 

Ben could have him eating out of the palm of her hand. Tell him she was shy and a virgin and drunk and all those things guys at a bar wanted to hear. But then he wouldn’t know that she was tough and soft and mean and sweet. Just like him. Full of confidence. While lacking self confidence.

“We don’t have to do this,” he said, ending the game he was never going to play. 

“It was your game, not mine,” she said, oblivious. Utterly fucking oblivious. He’d have to be more _direct._

Hux gave them drinks and she took a sip with her full lips, looking around the room and he took a breath and a small step, turning her before her eyes landed on the guy by the door. “Hey,” he said, trying to think of something to say. Whatever she wanted him to say. 

But Amber pulled her away, probably because he’d been with Crystal. And she was there too and she did look jealous.

“Ooh, they’re talken about ye already,” Hux said, watching the girls circle around Rey in hushed tones. This was the first time he’d seen her speak to other girls. That was good, she needed friends. He talked to Hux instead, downing his beer and ordering another. 

And another when the twins came over. And another when he looked up and saw the door guy talking to Rey. And another when he couldn’t see her.

The twins were focused on just him now and Hux was giving him the warning eyebrows, rubbing his forehead. But Ben wasn’t going to fuck the twins. 

Door guy talked to Rey for twenty minutes and Ben switched to whiskey and Hux tried to play Rey’s drinking game with Rose, even though he was shit at it. 

The guy was moving, bent over Rey. _Kissing her._

_And she was kissing him back._

“I think _we’re_ good to go whenever?” Amber said. As if she’d already decided they were fucking him tonight and he just needed to finish his drink.

Rey walked by, some of her innocence gone. Looking at him like he was going to reprimand her. For going home with a stranger, probably. Well, he was her roommate, not her father.

Ben drank down to the ice cubes. “Let’s go,” he muttered, letting them follow him out. He whistled for a cab the way he did in Chicago. The girls jumped at the sound and laughed, but he couldn’t crack a smile, too drunk. Or too alone. Even with two partners tonight.


	13. With a scar from the night before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Woke up on the cold bathroom floor  
>  Worldly-wise; you were young, you were bored  
> With a scar from the night before  
> Well you're feeling down so you might go out  
> And if you get lucky you might fool around  
> With some girl in some room  
> While the roots you put down  
> Are still straining to move **
> 
> Roots by There Will Be Fireworks
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

The other residents were keeping suspiciously clear of the ‘loo’, as if giving aid to Ben would put them on the same hit list. Word of the ass kicking in front of The Bow Bar had probably beaten him back to St. Leonard’s. 

Hux found him on the bathroom floor.

Ben had taken his shirt off. The blood made it look worse than it was. But scrapes were turning into bruises and those were going to look bad too.

“I was running late to Bow’s, I’m sorry I wasnae there! D’ye need the hospital?” He said, his voice shaking. God, he must look gruesome if his voice was shaking.

“No, I’m okay, but I might have one cracked rib,” Ben said, pointing.

Hux tore his eyes away from the scratch long enough to look at the bruise forming over Ben’s lower rib, as if he had X-ray vision and could determine if Ben’s theory was correct.

He helped Ben stand and look in the mirror. The entire right side of his face was masked in dried, flaking blood. But the bleeding had stopped. “Apparently there’s a rumor that I did something to the twins last night,” he said, loud over the sound of running water as he gingerly washed his face.

“No doubt you’ll remember the lass’s name next time,” Hux said, running out the door. “I thenk there’s a firs aid ket downstairs,” he said, already halfway down the hall.

Ben was—in truth—hiding in the men’s room, afraid Rey would come back—finally—to 201 and see the state of him and ask about it. 

Ben rubbed hand soap over his lip, spitting into the porcelain sink. He was lucky they stopped when they did.

The rugby captain smashed a pint glass over Ben’s face ‘for the twins’, but they were also calling him a drug dealer, which made him laugh. He told them it was a suicide hotline and they backed off, telling him to leave the city. As if his mom wasn’t the Lord Provost of Edinburgh.

But he wasn’t going to leave. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Other than punching a few guys in self defense and fucking up the name. Saying ‘Rey’ in warning, instead of ‘Amber’. So he ended up with a ‘fuck you’ from them _and_ Rey. Rey who didn’t go home with the other guy, who heard him with the twins and slept downstairs.

Hux came back and dug through a kit for bandages, even though he needed stitches. It would scar if he didn’t go to the hospital. But maybe he deserved it. 

Remembering Rey cold and sleeping on the couch and how he mocked her for being a virgin.

\----------------------------------------------------

  
  


The lights from the big screen flickered on Rey’s face and he watched her chewing her thumbnail, her legs up in the seat like a child. She pulled the sleeves of her new sweater over her hands and caught him staring, but she just smiled back at him in the dark.

He hoped the rumor that was scorching across campus would leave her untouched. Maybe she would stay ignorant on the guy's floor, away from the gossip. How would she look at him if she heard people talk as if he had hurt a woman in bed?

When he played _her song_ into the headphones that afternoon, he hoped she knew that he was a good man. That he slept across from her every night, wanting her and keeping to himself. That he _did_ have self restraint, whatever the twins were telling people.

Ben passed her the popcorn and she ate for a while, before passing it on to Rose. He thought about taking her hand, or kissing her, but Rose caught him looking at Rey and gave him an empathetic look. 

Because she knew what the rumor was, but wouldn’t tell him or Hux. So Ben knew it _must be bad._

\-----------------------------------------------------

Ben walked under cloudy skies to Teviot Row House, keeping his head down under his hat and hood, hoping his height wouldn't alert students to his identity. 

_The Dean’s nephew who 'stealthed' a condom. The Lord Provost’s son who can’t get off with a condom on._

Rose had finally told Hux. They needed to know what they were up against. He’d keep playing dumb though. Because Rey was all he had. And every time he looked at her, he looked for recognition that she still hadn’t heard it.

He handed her the umbrella he brought for her. Apparently they were both having a bad day. On top of the rumor, one of his hotliners was taken to the hospital for an attempt and Rey hadn’t gotten paid. And Ben knew she didn’t have a pound to her name. He wished her bad day was fixed as easy as buying her a blanket and a pillow case. 

Maybe he could take her to the Frightened Rabbit concert at The Bannerman’s. Even though it was a risk. He could try to get lost in the crowd. A foot taller than everyone else…

She was barely moving and he worried she wasn’t enjoying herself. Twisting her shoulders back and forth, she broke into a smile. Snapped out of that dreamy state she went into sometimes.

He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her hair. A secret apology for dragging her into the danger. But she was _his_ hotline, keeping him sane. The last string. An orphan in a red shirt, the zipper running the length of her back, and he looked down at it, wishing. _Maybe tonight._

\------------------------------------------------------------

He saw it in her face. She’d heard the rumor. Looking at him like he was a monster. Worse than it would have been _before_. Before they’d had sex. Before she gave him her virginity. 

It wasn’t sex, it was something _else_. Something _other_. One of those things people always wanted, but never quite got and they were lucky enough to get it. For one week in 201.

He wanted to grab her, kiss her, shout that she had to believe him, she was ALL HE HAD but wouldn’t that confirm it, that he had no self control?

How did guilty people act? As desperate as he looked? A month into school and already ostracized by the student body, hunted by the Rugby Football Club, and dumped by the only girl who had _ever_ looked at him like that. Like she could see his soul through his eyes.

A buzz in his pocket told him he’d have to pause his life again. Redirect his thoughts to saving _someone else’s_ life. It was David. In his phone with the last name as ‘2 prev attempts’ just to remind him. That this was not a normal hobby. It was life and death and it came before everything else. 

Rey backed away and he wanted to chase her. She went into Baird House and he wanted to kick down the door. But he did his job and talked David down from a mental ledge. Money troubles, it turned out, at the root of it. Ben Venmo'd him some money and watched as _Rey’s money_ dampened on the grass and blew across the grounds, lining a trail for him back to St. Leonard’s.

He packed two bags while Hux sat on Rey’s empty bed.

“These thengs go away, over time. And there’s me and Rose and we know ye didn’t do it,” Hux said, pragmatically.

But Ben could _never_ see that look on Rey’s face again, hear the drop in her voice.

_“You wouldn’t lie to me, right Ben? You wouldn’t.”_

He wished he’d left before he saw it. And he couldn’t break that to Hux. That she heard. That she believed it and thought he was a liar. 

His phone buzzed and he felt his jaw clench, a muscle somewhere pulling his scar tight. 

It was just a text from CiCi. Her new meds were working and she was thanking him for helping her through the hard part.

_Any time_ , was the gist of his response. He couldn’t let his hotliners know that his ‘job’ was killing him. That he didn’t even know what they looked like and he had nightmares about them dying. That when they texted, he got a wave of anxiety and when they didn’t, he worried it might be _because_ they were dead.

“Keep an eye on Rey for me,” Ben instructed, “ _Don’t_ let her bump into any rugby men. Or let the twins give her a hard time,” Ben said, heaving his bags and guitar case and turning to fit through the door of 201.

“Solo, ye _can’t_ drop out of uni,” Hux tried one more time and Ben could feel his eyes on him as he walked down the stairs. Hux never understood how good leaving felt. A blank slate. 

Flight mode.


	14. Writing elegies for those he'll never know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Home alone writing elegies  
>  For those he'll never know  
> Just a kid in his room  
> No one hears him howling at the moon  
> The drunk in his bar  
> Spinning fairy tales that never get him far  
> Of the thought, he has fled  
> Of her taking off her dress for someone else**
> 
> from ‘84 by There Will Be Fireworks
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

Killin was a small village of shops and cafes budged up close to the river Dochart, only a three hour train ride north, but by the time he waited for his trains at the two stations, it was early morning when he arrived.

His mom was still in Edinburgh, at her townhome there. She’d be furious when his uncle eventually got up the nerve to tell her about his call. That he’d quit school with no plan. That he was wasting a first rate education on dreams of being in a band.

Ben was pretty sure she went home occasionally to check on the animals, but their tenant/caretaker would be the only person at his old house. And he was craving the seclusion. 

The falls roared on his left as he crossed the old stone bridge, tired and hungry, towards home. The mist of the wide cascades swirled over the green riverbanks and Ben remembered playing there with his neighbors, pretending to be Clan Macnab versus Clan Neish. Shouting the local motto, “Dread nought!” and forging into battle with water guns that didn’t quite meet historical relevance.

That was before his parents divorced. Before his mom sent him to St. Augustine’s in Edinburgh.

Things there weren’t that bad. He was put in Redpath House with Hux and his dad bought him the guitar before going back to America.

Ben’s right bag was dragging the ground, but he only bothered to lift it when a sliver of puddle appeared on the street. He hadn’t been home in two years, but everything had stayed the same. He could even hear Chewie, mooing up the hill. It was feeding time, and he wanted hay.

Ben dropped his things at the front door of the white-washed two-story and ran around through the side gate. He smiled, a face full of hay dust as he grabbed a flake from the barn and unlocked the cattle gate to the field.

There were at least _ten_ cows now. Holsteins and Jerseys and Highlands. Red and black Highlands, running towards him, the ground shaking, but none of them were old enough to be Chewie.

He tossed the hay to the ground and went back to get more, a flake for each cow, taking two trips.

“Hey, that’s my job!” Ben heard a voice when he was done, sitting on the top of the gate and still combing the fields with his eyes, looking for Chewie.

“Hi, Maz,” Ben grinned, jumping down to give the old woman a hug. “Where’s Chewie?”

Maz gave his arms a squeeze, admiring him. “Oh, we lost old Chewie last wintar.”

Ben cringed. He was worried that was why he was gone. “Mom didn’t tell me. What happened?”

“Old age, the way every animal deserves to go,” Maz said, proudly. 

She followed him inside for a cup of tea and an English muffin, before taking off to feed the chickens and do her chores. 

Ben closed the curtains of his old room, climbing into the bed—no bigger than the one at St. Leonard’s—because he was a kid then and didn’t need much. He slept, glad to be away from school and rugby players and twins and even Rey. 

He dreamt about roosters crowing and woke up at 3pm to the smell of fresh baked bread. Maz had already gone home, but she had brought more food for the fridge. Vegan sandwich meats and cheese.

He was glad she didn’t ask him why he wasn’t at school. Why his face was scarred or if he and his mom were talking again.

After a quick meal, Ben put his guitar and headphones in the living room, claiming the space. He stayed up all night—nocturnal now—writing sad songs about those he’d lost and the girl he wanted, until his hands were sore. 

He showered with his mom’s shampoo and went back to bed, his dreams of Rey now, his own sad songs stuck in his head. He took her hand and introduced her to Chewie and he wagged his big, shaggy head, wanting grain and apples and they pet his nose but stayed away from his horns. 

“Ben,” his mom said, putting her hand on his forehead like he was a kid with a fever.

“Hey,” Ben said, sitting up. It was noon and he was still in bed. She probably thought he was sick. “Didn’t think you’d be home.”

She looked older, weary, and she smelled like cigarettes. Either someone had smoked near her or she had picked up a bad habit.

“Your uncle called. Said you dropped out,” she said, more worried-sounding than disapproving.

“Yeah,” Ben said, “I don’t need those classes, it’s a waste of money.”

His mom sat on the end of his bed. “It’s money you get back, through your dad’s inheritance, if you graduate.”

Ben nodded, tongue in cheek. They hadn’t spoken like this in so long. Normally. He’d gotten into school and arranged everything on his own.

His hair was covering his scar and he made no move to adjust it. He could hide it, tell her...never.

Ben could feel the tears coming, the relief of having his mom talking to him again. “I can’t go back there,” he said, knowing she was going to think it was the pressure of the suicide hotline. 

She hugged him, sliding his phone away from him down the covers. “I told you. I told you it’s too much for one person,” she said, holding him tighter.

That’s what she thought _then_ , she had no idea how bad things were _now_.

“How many people are you up to now?” She asked wiping her face and unlocking his phone, digging through his contacts like an intervention.

“Oh my god, Ben,” she muttered, scrolling through the names. She could tell the hotliners from his friends, their last names morbid. 2 prev attempts. Bridge. Cutter. Pills.

He had let it get bad. She had told him to stop. Again and again until they didn’t speak anymore.

“Ben, there’s got to be at least two hundred people on here,” she said, standing, keeping his phone.

“I can’t just-.”

“Yes, you can!” She shouted. “Do you think everyone sacrifices their whole life for the cause when a family member dies? Do you think kids should have a panic attack every time they get a text?”

“No,” Ben said. Rey had told him too. He needed to stop.

“I can’t though,” he said rubbing his eyes into the palms of his hands, crying now.

“I’ll do it,” his mom said, gently, rubbing his back and hugging him again. “I’ll call each one and tell them they will need to call the hotline from now on. You’ve done enough.”

Ben felt the wind of Arthur’s Seat on his face and the smell of ozone from the storm coming his way. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” She said, disbelieving.

He nodded, then laid back down and cried, his mom closing the door behind her. He fell asleep listening to the murmur of her in the kitchen. Making the difficult calls to his hotliners.

——————————

“Ben,” his mother woke him again the next week, his phone still in her possession. “Hux texted you that someone named Rey is in trouble?”

“What?” He said, taking the phone.

_RFC is after Rey, come back quick._

It was from two days ago! “Mom, I gotta go,” he said, pushing her out of the room so he could change. He didn’t pack a bag, just found his wallet and ran out the door without saying goodbye, down the hill and over the falls to the station.

He texted Hux back, but he was being cryptic now and that only served to make him more anxious. Were they just following her or had they already done something? Was it so bad Hux didn’t want to say? His stomach was in knots by the time he reached Edinburgh Waverley Station.

Hux’s latest text read: _She went to The Bow Bar_.

Good, that was close, he could go on foot. As soon as the doors slid open, he took off running. It was 3:30pm by the time he got to the pub. He walked inside, staying near the door as he scanned the room, not knowing what to expect. His theories on the train seemed ridiculous. A circle of rugby players around Rey or the twins making fun of her...

He saw her back. She was on the bar stools with Poe.

_Fucking Hux._

This wasn’t an emergency. He wanted Ben to come back before Rey ended up dating someone else.

He slid back outside, walking by the window and taking one more glance at her, her full-lipped smile.

Wearing the red shirt. For him.


	15. You shrink my world into a fist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **You shrink my world into a fist  
>  You stay mad and I'll stay pissed  
> And I'll stay here  
> You should clasp your hands and pray  
> You brought the pain  
> If you love me lately  
> I'll love you the same**
> 
> River by There Will Be Fireworks
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

Rey came out of the loo and sat back down at the bar where Poe had a screwdriver waiting for her. There were more people there than she would have expected at that hour. A group of rowdy guys in the corner and a few couples that looked like tourists.

“Glad you left your book bag. I was afraid you’d sneak out on me again,” he said. Like she’d left collateral. Like he wanted to know where she disappeared to that night.

“Ben left with the twins that night and I ran after them. To stop them I guess. Don’t know what I would have said if I’d caught up to him,” she said, honestly. 

Probably just some version of, ‘What were you going to say? Before they pulled me away?’ 

“He didn’t know a good thing when he saw it,” Poe said, bolstering her. 

“He did,” Rey said, in his defense. No one had ever loved her like that and no one else would ever come close. She took a sip of her drink, more vodka than orange juice.

Poe’s eyes followed a figure outside on the pavement as he took a drink too, then he changed the topic.

“What’s your favorite thing about Scotland so far?” Poe asked her. 

It sounded like a question you ask someone on a date. Or maybe it was just the way he said it. But Rey smiled, closing her eyes, thinking. When she was there last, The Bow Bar night. In Scotland with a heart beating fast. Pressed tight by a crowd. In love and in St. Leonard’s.

Those were her and Ben’s moments and she wasn’t going to share those with Poe. That was the music only she could hear.

“ _Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic_ ,” she said, simply. 

“What’s that?” He grinned. He wasn’t Dorian Gray, so he wouldn’t recognize the words.

“Oscar Wilde,” Rey said. “I wrote my first paper on him and it turned out he did have a great career and life and everything, but the rumors about his sex life landed him in jail and it kind of all fell to pieces overnight.”

“ _You’re_ my favorite thing about Scotland,” Poe said, unsolicited, not listening. Just waiting for his turn to speak.

She wasn’t offended, or flattered. She really just thought he was smoother than that. But maybe he’d liked her from the start and was out of patience. He was single, not with Crystal anymore, and Ben was gone.

“I know Ben’s dropped out and everything,” she tried to explain. “But he’s going to come back some day and I’m going to wait.”

Poe laughed, like he didn’t care. “Fair enough,” and finished his pint, signaling for another. 

“I was only going to do one drink,” Rey said, as the pint slid into his palm.

“Well, you drink slow,” he smiled, not meeting her eyes.

He nodded to someone across the pub and Rey glanced in that direction, seeing a familiar bloke on his way to the loo from the group in the corner. He had short hair and thick arms.

_Why did he look familiar?_

“Who was that?” She asked, taking a sip and pulling her coat off. It felt weird wearing the red shirt with Poe. But she needed to do laundry and she always ended up with the dressier clothes by laundry day.

“My cousin,” Poe said, offhandedly, eyeing her shirt. Specifically her breasts in her shirt.

Something clicked into place.

_That_ was the guy holding the pint glass over Ben in the fight. The captain of the rugby team.

Poe dated Crystal. So he probably heard the rumor from her. And told his cousin. Not for twin revenge, but because he wanted Ben out of the picture. Because of Rey.

He fixed a smile on his face that made her blood run cold.

“Poe. Did _you_ tell the rugby team about the rumor?” Rey asked.

She’d accused the twins to their faces and they’d said, “Call them off?!” 

As if they hadn’t wanted the RFC to hear to begin with. Because their brothers were on the team and it was _embarrassing,_ having a threesome with their own sister. 

Poe’s eyebrows knitted, ready to gaslight her, act like she was crazy. But his face rearranged, taking a new tactic. “I did. I thought he’d done it and I wanted him to leave,” he said, as if his intentions were good. “And he did. Though he’s back now apparently, he just poked his head in,” he said, annoyed.

Rey turned to the door and checked the windows, but if he had been there he was gone now.

He was there and Poe didn’t tell her?! Was he only telling her now because he thought Ben would mention it later? That Poe saw him.

Rey grabbed his full pint and threw its contents in his face, slamming the glass back down. He took a deep breath through his mouth, sitting in shock as his hair dripped into his lap. 

It wasn’t satisfying enough. She stood and punched him so hard her hand hurt and his stool spun him back to the bar.

“What the fuck?!” He shouted, the bar quiet now. 

“What was that?!” He said, holding his nose, even though there was no blood and the RFC had hit Ben so much harder, a dozen times.

Rey grabbed her coat and rucksack and backed toward the door. “A _Scottish_ goodbye,” she said to his wet face, turning to push through the door, running in the direction she’d seen him looking earlier.

Ben had come back. He’d seen her with Poe. He was probably heading for the train station! She threw her jacket to the ground, it was slowing her down. She pulled on her rucksack and ran like the Ripper was on her heels.

The station was easy to find and she remembered the layout, checking the blue board with the schedule, but she didn’t know his destination and there were multiple trains leaving. She ran to the first train, looking inside the length of the platform, then went to the next train when she didn’t see him.

Security was following her, cautiously, because she wasn’t acting like she was sneaking into a train without buying a kiosk ticket. She looked like she was searching for a missing person, but she didn’t have time to ask for their help.

Ben. Ben. Where was Ben? She pushed past people, everyone slowing her down, her eyes streaming. What if he wasn’t even at the station?! 

She checked the last train anyway, even though it was moving and the doors were locked. 

Ben!

He was sitting by the window, looking up at the glass ceiling, not down at her.

Her eyes searched the outside of the train but couldn’t see his destination. She ran next to it, banging on the side, security coming after her now. 

“Miss, what es it?”

He wasn’t looking! He looked so alone!

“BEN!!” She shouted, loud enough to wake the dead, but he didn’t hear. 

Rey was running out of platform. She reached into her bag and found the whistle the cop had dropped that night, filled her lungs and blew as hard as she could. Ear splittingly loud. 

Ben looked up right as security grabbed her arm, afraid she was dangerously close to falling onto the tracks.

The platform ended and she stopped, but Ben stood up in the window, his mouth open. 

He saw. He saw. And he liked it.


	16. Say whatever I think, say it at him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Well, the booze in my blood runs fast and loud  
>  And my brain shouts down to my mouth  
> Say whatever I think  
> Say it at him  
> And when the dam bursts open  
> And you're drowned out, boy  
> Better go outside sit in your boat and wait  
> Till you get washed away**
> 
> FootShooter by Frightened Rabbit 
> 
> [The Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4oVEYan0HpgJ3MrDczVudx?si=Y7Ncs2gJQha0ymqnOhMltA)

Rey sat cross-legged on a woven metal bench at Edinburgh Waverley station. The staff and security guards walked by every ten minutes with an update on Ben’s train—they assumed—if he’d gotten off at Ingliston to come back. She had a feeling they were taking bets on whether or not he would.

“Five more minutes,” a small woman whispered, giving her a brief thumbs up.

_He’d come back._ He saw her. Did he notice it was the whistle that saved his life? Did he see the red shirt? Would he stay away, thinking she had been with Poe while he was gone?

Rey didn’t know what to say to him first. That she’d punched Poe? That the rumor was over and he could come back? That Hux refused to let anyone move into 201, hoping Ben would return to school?

  
  
A train approached the far platform and another female staff member _shouted at her_ from across the terminal,“That’s et, et’s early!”

Rey jumped up and ran to the platform, walking the opposite direction of everyone getting off, looking for a tall head ducking out under a door. She knew almost immediately he wasn’t there. He would have been one of the first to come out. If he didn’t have luggage and he just wanted to get to her. But she waited until the last person got off, afraid to turn around and see the looks on the staff’s faces. Like she was an over eager girl, chasing a man who just wanted to get away from her. That the romance was all in her head.

Sunset orange lit the sky and dimmed the room and she blinked back her tears. Maybe...maybe he just missed the bleeding train.

“Is that hem?” A man said behind her and she turned, seeing Ben running from the street entrance, looking around for her. 

Rey ran past the staff into his eyeline, walking without looking where she was going or who she was running into, reading his face, letting the tension snap and meeting him in the middle, no words necessary. He picked her up so she could wrap her legs around him, kiss him and claw at his hair. His fingertips dug into her back, possessively, and she gasped into his mouth over the woops and whistles of the staff, “Stop leaving me! And why weren’t you on the train!?”

Ben growled, mad at himself, “I thought a cab would be faster.” 

He set her down, glancing at the staff, embarrassed. “Should we go?”

“Yes,” Rey said, throwing them a wave and pulling him across the terminal and out the doors. 

They walked back toward the Residence Halls, finally saying everything that needed to be said. Poe and suicide calls and rumors and how she wanted him to come back to school. 

“I can,” he said, grinning. “I mean, there has to be some perk to having the Dean as my uncle.”

They tailgated their way into St. Leonard’s and Rey was leading him up the dark stairwell when she felt him pull hard on her hand, making her stop. He took another step closer behind her and ran his hands down her arms in the dark, pulled her rucksack slowly off her shoulders.

“I’ll be fine, no matter what I do. As long as you want me, Rey,” he said, his bedroom tone kindling the fire that kept her warm when she was alone with her thoughts. His hand brushed her hair to the side and ran down the length of her zipper. 

“I want you,” Rey said, loud enough for him to hear, checking to make sure no one was in the hall of the second floor. 

He pulled on the zipper, all the way down, his hands exploring to her front and massaging her breasts, so small compared to his hands. 

Rey lifted her arms to keep her shirt up, keep her front decent in case anyone came down, but let him touch her, pull her down to his step and push her against the cold stone wall. 

Ben _didn’t give a fuck_ if they were caught.

He reached around, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding his hand into her panties, pressing on her from behind, hard and warm, his mouth on the back of her neck and his lip dragging across her spine. “Get in that room,” he said, darkly. _  
_

_Dorian fucking Gray._

She folded her arms across her front, grabbed her rucksack with the key and ran.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Hux handed her and Rose their drinks, high over the heads of the other concert goers. It was pouring rain outside—not the usual drizzle—pouring. There was a stream forming down the street, a meter wide of rushing dark water, threatening to overtake the curb and spill into the pub.

“This one’s called ‘The Girl With The Boy’s Name.”

Ben started playing his next song and Rey spun around to push back to the front of the crowd, laughing. She didn’t know he had a song about her.

He grinned down at her from the microphone, laying into the strings. A pleading tune that built into something that made her want to race to the top of Arthur’s Seat and spin under the stars, make out with a boy on a cobblestone street, and fall asleep on his chest in a small, drafty room.

Ben glanced at the flickering lights as he sang, worried they’d lose power in the middle of his first show. The other two guitarists looked at each other, thinking the same. So they played harder, like that might be it, the last song before a blackout. The drummer didn’t seem concerned, creating a pounding, irregular, communal heartbeat in the room, not dependent on electricity.

It took her a moment, but she recognized the song. Sitting on the end of Ben’s bed with his headphones over her ears, while he watched her in silence. He saw the smile and leaned into the microphone, “Come here,” he said, in lieu of lyrics and Rey stepped closer. 

Ben bent down and kissed her, _with tongue_ in front of everyone and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He grabbed her arse and lifted her, one-handed until she was on stage. Just so everyone at The Bannerman’s that night would know that this song was about _her_. 

Hux and Rose cheered the loudest. But Janna and Kaydel and a few girls from The Baird House raised their glasses as well.

_Her_ drink was spilled all over the stage and she was left holding an empty glass, but she set it down and curtseyed. Actually, half of St. Leonard’s was there. Her residence hall. When someone on Rose’s floor dropped out, Hux let her know and she was able to move back. Just one floor away from Ben. 

She kissed him one more time and carefully jumped off the stage, allowing herself a moment in the crowd to close her eyes and memorize the moment, appreciate life, gratefully, looking forward to a future of more nights like this. Friends and music and a _criminally attractive_ boy.

In love and in Scotland with a heart beating fast.

[ ](https://ibb.co/F7WmXK4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!!! 
> 
> Ok. Now let's all plan a trip to Scotland where we revisit all of these places...


End file.
